Of Stars and Stone
by irishrebelelf
Summary: For Tauriel, all hope is lost when she believes that Durin's line has fallen. But Ilúvatar and Aulë have other plans.
1. Falling to Darkness

A/N: The rating may be changed eventually when warranted so be prepared for fluff (eventually), and tags will be added as we go along! Any comments/criticism is welcome! This is my first attempt at Kili/Tauriel!

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 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 1**

 **Falling to Darkness**

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"Tauriel!"

Hope. It soared through me more than I dared let it when I heard my name being called from above. When I watched a flurry of dwarf fly to my aid and land on the orc's shoulders. It left me just as quickly as Kili was tossed onto the steps and I lunged back into the fray. But it was in vain, as Kili was dragged up in the orc's large fist and he shook me off his shoulders like a rag doll.

Any air left from being tossed aside by Bolg expelled sharply from my lungs as I watched the blade pierce Kíli's chest. Time froze as I watched him gasp and turn his eyes to me, longing for a life he would never live and a future we could never share, a promise given that he couldn't keep. It was then I understood and could no longer deny that every part of my being longed for his. It was at that moment I understood his words at the shoreline and how foolish it was of me to turn away when I had. As Kili fell and Bolg turned to me I vowed vengeance even if it took me from this existence… preferably it would as I felt the essence inside me break. Rage and sorrow flung me forward as I swung up and around Bolg's neck and shoved off the ledge to force us over and down the cliffside. Everything went dark and black as we tumbled.

Kili's voice rang in my ears. Throw me a dagger! Quick! The jagged stone broke under us as we fell further down Ravenhill's wall. She thinks I'm reckless. We crashed to a ledge and I groaned, seeing nothing but darkness and feeling nothing but cold.

Around me I heard what sounded like the crashing of a mountain, the clang of steel, battle cries echoing up from the valley below. I struggled to roll over and tried to clear my vision. But the world spun in a speckled fog as I clamored and crawled back up the mountain to where my heart had been split in two.

There was so little blood, I mused mournfully, collapsing on Kili's prone form. There was no flood as I expected as my hands searched for life, for pulse, for warmth. I could not take my eyes from his face, pale and peaceful for such an end. I raised myself back from him and not once did I notice the flow of tears begin to fall down my face onto him, for all I felt was cold and empty.

I felt the presence of my king as he approached but all sense of propriety and servitude had long left me.

"They'll want to bury him." I murmured.

"Yes."

"If this is love I do not want it. Take it from me? Please?" I looked up at him finally, pleading and desperate. Shaking my head, I closed my eyes and cried, "Why does it hurt so much!?"

"Because it was real."

Did he say it was real? Had the disbelief not struck me, I might have noticed the glistening tears in his eyes and the compassion and love I claimed was so lacking in him. I looked back to where the embodiment of my heart lay. Thranduil receded into the shadows of the broken fortress and I leaned down and gazed again at Kili. So this was love. It was real. This was the loss of oneself only so soon after being given a glimpse of what could have been.

Left alone again to my ever growing grief, I shivered in a cold I'd never felt before. Kili's coal-black curls were matted and I brushed my fingers gently through them, desperate for any last connection I might find as the weight of what I had denied us while he was with me settled on my chest. The pain was immense and felt as though my fëa was being ripped from me. I now saw where my tears had fallen to mingle with his as he had fallen under the orc's pike. My fingers sought to smooth his hair as I lay my head to his chest, looking up at his resting face and whispered through my tears to him.

"Gwannach o innen ului. Ú galad, ú vin anor hen. Ú lû erui, ului. Dannen le. A ú-erin le regi."

The sobs shook me as I clung to him desperately. Time receded into the corners of my mind as I lay there with him, wishing and imagining the life we might have had and never would. But he had gone where I could not follow. I shut my eyes as if I could will my fëa and hröa to follow him. Even if separate in the halls of our ancestors, I could not imagine staying in this life without him. I let the weight of my grief draw me into an oblivion I sought.

When I felt gentle hands on my shoulders, I recoiled in agony that the pain was still so real, so deep, and that I still clung to this living world. The sleep I seemed to awaken from had given me little rest when swarmed by all too brief memories. All around me now were the deep and quiet mutterings of whispering dwarves on one side and a small grouping of stoically still elves on the other.

The voice reached me as if through a tunnel, echoing and distant. "Come now, he's long gone to the halls with his kin."

I blinked wearily at the grey haired Dwarf crouched to the other side of Kili, hands on my shoulders trying to raise me from his prince. The tears that had subsided swam into my eyes once more as reality again came crashing around me. The dwarf and his companions seemed to shift uncomfortably around me. I did not know nor care how long they had seen me there. But I then felt regret and grief as I turned to find Legolas stand in to make another attempt.

"O hon ú-wannathon, " I pleaded with Legolas.

He tucked a strand behind my ear and with no derision or malice begged I take my leave, in softer tones but still echoing his command from the shoreline. "Ú-moe le anno nad."

"Gar vethed e-chúnen, go hon bedithon na meth." My breath hitched and I struggled to hold back a sob.

"Tauriel, you are not alone in your grief. You must let his people take care of him now. Let yours care for you."

What may have remained of my strength, my will, faltered under the gentle pressure of Legolas' hands and eyes. I nodded and glanced up to see that Thranduil had not left as I had imagined. Perhaps he had more heart than I gave him credit for. Perhaps he simply waited for his son.

Knowing that this was the last time I would see or touch my beloved and reckless dwarf with whom my time had been cut so short, I placed his hand against my cheek and murmured my final words to him.

"An i ú nathant… An i naun ului…" I sighed and leaned into Kili, so unchanged and still, frozen in time forever.

Moving to press my lips to the only one to have ever stolen my heart, I shuddered holding back the terror of being left to walk this world alone without his light and love. His lips so soft and … warm? No, I shut my eyes hard against my own foolish hope. I brushed my palm along his dark matted curls and across the shadow of stubble that graced his chin. I sobbed quietly and pressed my lips to his once more as I placed the runestone in his gloved hand and held it in mine against his chest. As I began to lean away I felt a flutter of breath across my lips and chided myself for this painful imagining of my heart.

The tears seemed to come from an unending well as I tried to stand, feeling as though every inch of me was twisted and torn. Kili was at peace in his Halls of Waiting and I was alone. I saw no elves around me, no dwarves but for the dark haired hunter on the snow. Weakness flooded my body as I felt myself slipping, the world swimming and tilting in agony. The Halls of Mandos must be waiting for me. Everything went grey and mute and I allowed myself to sink into the darkness, imagining that the calling of my name at the end of that blackness was Kili calling me to his side one last time.

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Sindarin translations:

"Gwannach o innen ului. Ú galad, ú vin anor hen. Ú lû erui, ului. Dannen le. A ú-erin le regi." (You never left my mind. Not once, not ever. There is no more light, not in this sun. You have fallen. And I cannot reach you.)

"O hon ú-wannathon," (I will not leave him.)  
"Ú-moe le anno nad." (You owe him nothing)  
"Gar vethed e-chúnen, go hon bedithon na meth." (He has the last of my heart. I will go with him to the end.)

"An i ú nathant… An i naun ului…" (For what might have been, For what never was.)


	2. In The Light

A/N: The rating may be changed eventually when warranted so be prepared for fluff (eventually), and tags will be added as we go along! Any comments/criticism is welcome! This is my first attempt at Kili/Tauriel!

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 2**

 **In The Light**

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The scenes from the battle kept flashing before me, the sounds of metal against metal or rending flesh. Part of me fought to hold to the last sound of hearing Kili call my name, and with each remembrance of his call my vision would suddenly fill with his face as he took his last breaths and fell under Bolg's blow. Screams tried to form, my body fought to rise and go to his aid, looped in this unending fight to save him yet again. But I remained still and silent, frozen and mute.

Cold. Were the Halls of Mandos carved from ice? I may not have expected warmth but neither did I expect the piercing pain and shivers that wracked my body. It was like being stabbed by frozen stinging nettles from head to toe. All was still dark and it felt as though the weight of the world pinned me to where I lay. Was I on that mountainside? Had I succumbed and fallen beside my love at Ravenhill? Oh were that so, but even in our Halls of Waiting we could not be together again. Let the blackness come and take me to never wait or return.

I heard sounds of movement. The tinkling of metal, the soft sweep of cloth, dripping of water. Soft low muttering surrounded me in hushed whispers but I could not seem to lift my eyelids as if they had sealed like a tomb. There was a constant ache in my chest that I tried to move away from but I was locked motionless, trembling from the cold, praying to the Valar that this plight would end.

The voices around me became harsh while the pressure on my chest threatened to crush me.

"Farn, Legolas. She has brought this upon herself." The harshness of tone in his voice swamped me with recognition as one I knew and had once pledged myself to. If I could see anything past this darkness and pain I might imagine Thranduil's eyes slit as he glowered over me, admonishing my every action leading to my demise.

"And you accept no part in her ruin, yet stand there to let her diminish and fade?" He who had always come to my aid, my defence, Legolas' voice echoed around me.

"You know it isn't as simple as that." Thranduil sounded weary through the dim tunnel as I heard more movement around me, as weary as I, wishing the voices and noise to cease.

"Make it that simple. Her suffering does you no justice. If you allow this, I will never go back."

I tried to cry out, to scream that I was dying and to leave me in peace, but no sound escaped my lips, none of the tears I felt within me trailed my cheek. Let me die , I thought, willing them with every ounce of remaining energy to hear me.

"I cannot bring her back if she chooses to go. Her fëa has been torn and hangs on the edge of a knife. Should she turn away, there is nothing I can do. But perhaps…" Thranduil sighed, closer but still far as my body shivered and screamed in silence.

Something warm pressed to my forehead sending a deep shudder coursing through me. Another warm pressure surged from my hip and while it held relief it only increased the throbbing ache in my chest until I thought I might be crushed under its weight. I could feel the warmth fighting the cold grip on me, within me, as my heart fought its own hopeless battle with grief. My body twisted in turmoil, and I heard a soft chanting as warmth teased and scorched through me. One moment I felt the icy grips of ten thousand winters reaching into the depths of my fëa, and the next I am being scorched like dragon fire.

I heard someone scream and my eyes shot open struggling to comprehend what looked like the light of a thousand suns burning into me from where Thranduil's hands pressed onto my flesh. Legolas was suddenly beside me, searching my eyes for what I did not know, failing to hide the fear in his own. He grasped my shoulder as my body flexed against their hands. The scream had been my own. Thranduil's eyes seemed to burn through me, heat and light radiating from the whole of his proud and regal form. To look upon him as he was now bathed in light and fierce, his own enchantments fading from his face, was to see his full power and fear him.

"She is worsening! Father!"

"Gwao hi! "

My eyes locked on to Legolas', pleading. There was a great struggle in him as he dare not interfere, but neither did he want to abandon me. He glanced up at his father for a moment, witnessing the same fierce focus and energy I had feared and seemed instantly resigned to be ushered from my side.

Thranduil's deep and melodic voice echoed through the cavern of despair I was halfheartedly clinging to.

"Ú-erich leithio, Tauriel. Tolo dan nan galad. " he urged, sudden and soft in appeal.

My back arched as another lance of heat shot from my head to my chest and down through my legs. A wracking sob escaped my lips and I felt hot tears streak down my cheek. Thranduil whispered to me words I could not make out as I shook with each sob. My body had finally began to calm and relax as I felt Thranduil's palm brush my forehead. He brushed hair behind my ears and wiped tears from my face. I tried to speak, to find any words that might be a balm to either of us but nothing came. The blinding light slowly subsided and dulled into a soft shimmer as it faded and my eyes fought to stay open. I thought I saw him stumble into a chair beside me and felt the weight of a blanket laid across me. As a faint feeling of comfort and love began to seep through me I could not help but give in. The raging heat began to dissipate, the ringing in my ears quieted, and a different kind of darkness pulled at me. Exhaustion.

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Sindarin translations:

"Farn," (Enough)  
"Gwao hi!" (Go now!)  
"Ú-erich leithio" (You cannot let go.)  
"Tolo dan nan galad." (Come back to the light).


	3. Coming Around

**Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 3**

 **Coming Around**

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Groaning turned into a fit of coughs for the hoarse dryness of my throat. My head was lifted and a cool cup of water pressed to my lips. I drank deeply, the liquid like a healing balm sluicing down my throat. Before I opened my eyes, I was gently propped upright and felt fingers probing my temple, then my shoulder and hips. I knew not how long I slept and remembered little. Everything that flitted across my memory did so like a disjointed dream and nothing more, with no sense and mere shadows dancing around me. I struggled with the fog.

"She's healing faster now."

What did that mean? I looked curiously at the elven healer, wondering to whom she spoke as I was right in front of her not warranting discussion of me as an absent party. Only when I followed her eyes to looking seemingly above and beyond me, did I know we were not alone. She nodded curtly before leaving the room, and I knew only the King of our realm demanded such courtesy. My weak state would not have permitted me proper etiquette even had I attempted it. All the same, I stayed still and waited for him to come into view, the fog in my mind still clinging to the edges of my memory and vision.

I felt as though I had fire on my tongue, anger, sorrow, a cavern of emotions with which to fling cruelly at him. All of it welled inside of me as though we were still on a battlefield. I glared furiously at him, prepared to spit venom. Thranduil moved closer in a silent sweep of his gowns and lifted my chin with one finger. I felt myself vibrate with what restraint I could muster as he held my chin and eyed me suspiciously from head to toe and looked with uncomfortable depth into my eyes.

"I can see the pain of your body has lessened. May I hope that the pain of your heart will be soon to pass." With that, he took a distancing step back, lost in thought as the healer brought in a fresh water basin and wash cloths.

Shock at his words had me gasping, silencing the ill thoughts towards him. There were times when I had wished he might offer me the comfort a father would, and times when I thought it possible. Yet, the warmth and kindness in his words were not to be found on his face. The blood and scratches that had been there when last I could recall laying eyes on him were long since healed and vanished. I knew some of what enchantments lay upon him that hid the worst of his wounds from dragon fire, and yet his skin and face were as perfect as cold carved marble. There was no remnant of his wounds or of the strain from healing me.

"I… Everything is so unclear. I feel as though my memory is a puzzle with a missing center."

"It will return. In time."

When I began to ask for any salvation from this confusion and feeling of walking lost in a maze, Legolas came bounding in to grasp at my hand and bow his head at my side.

"Tauriel…" He pressed my palm to his cheek and raised a brow at me. "You look terrible."

I chuckled. "Why do I think that I would look all the worse if not for you?"

He shrugged and grinned ever so slightly. When I tried to rise off my sickbed, to swing my legs off the side, Thranduil's hand came down on my shoulder to keep me still.

Flustered, I protested. "I'm fine. If the battle is still being waged, I belong in the field."

I watched as father and son exchanged a brief glance before Legolas moved from beside me, deferring to Thranduil who began to pace. "The battle has passed and the dwarves have reclaimed Erebor. There is nothing for you to do now but rest and recover."

"Am I not recovered?" I questioned, beginning to wonder if there were other reasons than injury that had brought me the healing house.

Legolas interjected, sensing a growing impatience in his father. "Your injuries were… more extensive, than we initially believed."

When I tried to recall any injuries, the fog blocked my vision and memory again. "But…" I struggled to remember past drawing my weapon at Thranduil. The shock of his blade breaking my bow caused me to wince. "I cannot… I do not remember."

I did not notice Legolas' questioning look at his father, nor Thranduil's subtle shake of his head.

"I do hope that you at least remember your place in this realm and do as you are bid." The king had stopped his pacing to pierce me with a glare. "Lest you loose your tongue at me again, I promise you, I won't be so forgiving next time."

I swallowed audibly and tried to stiffen my spine. "If my penance is to be sequestered from the world, I would at the least not be relegated to a sick bed. I am perfectly fine."

"If you were fine, then measures would not have had to be taken by myself. There would not be a healer checking on you in the night. There would be color to your flesh, and light in your eyes. Do not waste yet another chance you are being given. Willful child, for once do as you are told and ask no more questions!"

My confidence wavered as I felt hot tears filling my eyes. I beat them back before they could fall and embarrass me in weakness. I nodded solemnly, silently, and resigned myself to whatever fate might have in store for me without really knowing what had brought me to this point. I had so many questions, like how much time was lost between confronting my king and now. He spun to the doorway and was gone in a flurry.

Legolas moved forward again, drawing close a chair and sitting at my side. "We lost many and he is weary and desperate to put it all behind him. You remind him too much of his failings."

"There is little I can do about that." Being obstinate may not be helpful but it at least made me feel a little less wounded.

Legolas sighed. "We both seem doomed to misunderstanding him."

"Mellon , will you not tell me what has come to pass? What of Dale, Erebor... "

"There will be time for all of that. For now, my father is right. You must rest, and we will speak more later."

"Legolas, please. At least tell me why I am relegated to this chamber. There is a weakness I have never felt and cannot place, but I do not understand."

"You were wounded. You fought valiantly, but took a great fall…" He hesitated, seeming to weigh his words carefully.

I scoffed. "I have taken many falls." When he stayed silent, a dark dread began to fill my heart but still I could not grasp at the strands of memory.

"My father had to help. Do not undo what he has done. Be still." Legolas brushed his hand along my forehead and cheek to help soothe, but I was still so lost.

"Your father… healed me? I…"

"Your body was not healing."

"But…" There was only one reason that an elf would not heal from any mortal wound. If this was true, then that would mean… My heart began to pound in my ears and I vaguely heard myself ask to be alone. Legolas gripped my hand and left me as I curled into myself and wept.


	4. Turning the Lock

A/N: Thank you SO much to everyone for the kudos and comments! I'm absolutely LOVING writing this so I hope you are enjoying reading it just as much! I promise there's more coming!

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 4**

 **Turning the Lock**

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The chamber had become a prison. They continued to tell me that I was no prisoner, but I was expected to remain in my room until I healed. I would have sworn the healer was part of my guard rather than sent to check on my progress. It was shocking there wasn't a worn path where I paced for what felt like the last week if not two. I had gotten no more answers as Legolas had seen me only once more since that first day. Thranduil had been absent completely. I may as well have been alone in the world but for the occasional visits of the elven healer changing the sheets, checking my status, and otherwise annoying me with her random hovering. I was either left to complete solitude, or poked and prodded, and spent my nights restless and haunted by senseless dreams.

Each day since I had been able to leave my bed after the first week, I watched the comings and goings of those who once were my friends out of the corner window. It seemed that life within the woodland realm continued as though no battle had been waged near its borders. When I felt more under my own power and strength, I tried to walk the halls of the kingdom. But on the occasions I had attempted to venture outside of my lodgings, I was almost as quickly escorted back. Guards were placed outside my door after only two such attempts. There were obviously conditions to my being and remaining in Mirkwood, whether I knew them or not.

I spent as much of my time watching the world outside as I did trying to remember that which was missing from my memory. Some things were so clear, but it was if the pages in my book had become smudged and then blank as hell broke upon the slopes of the mountain. As I sat at the edge of my bed and focused on my memories, I let what I could flood my senses. I watched many elves fall and the men and women of Laketown take up arms to defend Dale as best they could as Legolas and I returned from Gundabad. I knew orcs and other foul creatures were descending from all sides, with more still to come, and yet I could hear the sound of the horn beckoning the elves to retreat. I fought my way towards the city and blocked the passage in front of the Elvenking. As words formed, they became muted to my ears and everything began to dissolve away around me, leaving me once again lost to confusing darkness.

I opened my eyes to find tears on my cheeks. I groaned and returned to my watch at the window to see Legolas heading out towards the gates. He paused and glanced behind him, up towards me. I raised my hand as if to wave, to hope he might visit me in my solitude, but he turned and was gone. I barely had a moment to wonder when I heard footfalls approach and a light knock to my door. I turned with a scowl for the healer, surprised to find Thranduil inside the threshold.

I nodded curtly. "My Lord."

He moved further into the room, the door closing quietly behind him.

"I hear that you are restless and would leave these halls."

Though a great many moments were missing, I did recall too clearly being informed of my banishment before riding to Gundabad. Not knowing the fallout beyond this was just leading to more questions.

"I should not be sequestered to wither alone without knowing the reason."

As if knowing my thoughts, he glanced coldly at me. "Would you prefer the comfort of our dungeons?"

I turned away and looked out the window once more. "Is this to be my punishment?"

"Your orders were clear and yet you defied them. You defied me. Why should I trust you to roam our halls free as though still captain of our guard?"

My heart tightened uncomfortably at his words. I did not expect forgiveness and had no comprehension of what my future may hold. Yet, there was still hurt at the definitive knowledge that I no longer had a place here among the people that had been the only home I'd known.

"What do you remember?" he asked quietly. He moved towards a side table near the bed, turning a stone over and over in his palm as he gazed at me, expressionless.

His movement was momentarily distracting and I wondered what it was he held. The restlessness he spoke of took me over again as I began to pace. "So little. It isn't so much as bits and pieces, but it is as if my days simply stopped one moment and began again. After the dragon was slain, Legolas and I rode to Gundabad." I chose carefully to exclude my memory of the king calling back his son and banishing me, though the recollection was crystal clear.

"And?"

"We witnessed the armies of orc and bats pour from Ângmâr and we rushed back hoping we weren't too late. I… My Lord, I heard your horn. I saw you aiming to retreat. Please tell me we did not leave the others to fend for themselves and run to hide within our walls!" I pleaded with him, unsure of the outcome. All that they had told me was that many were lost but the mountain had been reclaimed. "Why can I not remember? Will you not tell me?"

He turned and poured water from the pitcher on the bedside table into a glass for himself, and drank deeply. "Do you remember when once I told you that with your skill and cunning, you could go far?"

"Yes."

"And so I still believe. But you have been headstrong all your life, questioning me at every turn. Where someone less patient might not have tolerated your willfulness, I have tried to guide you. For 600 years, there have been no others short of my son that I have given as much attention."

"And now?"

"Now…" He turned the stone over in his hand, eyeing it almost disdainfully one last time before setting it down and returning his gaze to me. "Now we live in a different world. Though the threat is not as great as before, the shadows linger and vigilance cannot give way to laziness. The dwarves have reclaimed their homeland and men once more walk the streets of Dale, rebuilding broken alliances. We will wait and see how their endeavors unfold. But I cannot have a captain who does not obey her king. You have left me little choice."

I stood quiet, staring with tears in my eyes. "If I am banished, let me go! Will you keep me in the dark forever? Lock me in this room until the world turns to dust?"

He took two large steps towards me and the fierceness of all his power, the ages of life within him, nearly knocked me over. I fought to keep myself still, but felt myself vibrate under his glare, his wrath. Tears welled defiantly in my eyes uncontrollably as his voice echoed through the small chamber, his face so close to mine.

"What do you think you know of darkness? Of forever? You are a child. You have not seen the shadows of this world and the horror that lurks, waiting. What have you suffered that is so great it deserves limitless patience and forgiveness? Fortunes of the world rise and fall. Man and dwarf will die in a mere blink in our lives."

I shook with such rage and fear that I could not contain the words that seemed to flow from me without thought. "Are our lives worth more than theirs? Is your life worth more when there is no love in it? When there is no love in you!?"

For a moment, I might have thought I wounded him as he seemed to stumble backwards at my words. I did not know the echoing of my own words from the weeks before and how they haunted him, but for a mere moment I thought I saw how deeply my words had hurt him. His eyes grew wide and he straightened, standing tall and distant once more. I was grateful the tears in my eyes did not fall. With a look I had never seen on his face in all my years, he turned and left silently. When the door closed behind him, I heard locks turn and let out a short cry of frustration before kicking the leg of the table. The stone Thranduil had been turning in his hand tumbled off and fell at the toe of my boot.

I bent to retrieve it and stopped with my fingertips an inch away. I kneeled, sitting on my heels as I stared at the familiar but unreadable runes carved into the smooth rock. A sharp and painful ache echoed in my heart as my fingers yearned to touch the smooth surface. I reached for it again and went to trace the lines that held so many promises. As I grasped the stone in my hand, a heat radiated from it and a jumbled stream of images flashed in my mind. I cried out on a broken sob and covered my mouth as I gripped the stone. I could not make sense of anything but one. Only one image anchored me but could I dare to hope? Was this memory? A dream of the future? His face was all I saw. Warm and piercing eyes, coal black waving curls, and shadowy scruff along the chin. I could all but feel him there with me, his warm lips touching mine, his warmth around me. I closed my eyes as if to hold the image of his face in my mind and sighed.

"Kíli… What happened… Where are you…"

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A/N: Eeeek! Will Tauriel remember anything about the battle and Ravenhill? Is Thranduil cruel enough to really keep her locked away? I can't wait for you to find out! :D Stay tuned for the next update


	5. Beyond the Forest

A/N: I'm back! Thank you so much for the feedback on last chapter. I know you are all anxious to learn about what's happening with the dwarves, and we will be visiting Erebor in just a couple chapters, I promise! There are still a few things to learn in the woodland realm before we check in on the company! There is a bit more Sindarin here and wanted to put the translations up front to make the reading hopefully flow easier BUT I don't want to spoil the chapter too much too soon - they're at the bottom as usual, so it's up to you if you'd rather know the meaning ahead of time :)

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 5**

 **Beyond the Forest**

* * *

We rushed quietly along the dimly lit paths, ducking through the columned corridors as silently as ghosts. If anyone had come upon us, we could explain our way out of any repercussions but it was still better to avoid a confrontation in the first place. Climbing the winding stairs up beyond the cave of the palace and onto the higher level outcroppings that looked upon the forest, I took a deep breath of night air to fill my lungs, winded from running. I felt a wave of relief wash over me as the starlight touched my skin, the moon hanging low but bright in the sky. I closed my eyes and breathed in the night and listened to the sounds of the forest around us. This was the second time that we had snuck away since Thranduil had confronted me and locked me in my room.

"Man le trasta, Legolas?" I opened my eyes and turned to face him, his brow knit as he watched me carefully. He shook his head as if exasperated that I could sense his unease.

"Han cenin vi chen lín."

"Man cenich?"

"Naeth… wanath."

I turned away from him hoping to hide what fear lay in my heart at his words and gazed up at the stars above us.

"Dolen i vâd o nin . Even the grief that holds my heart is hidden from my own mind. I know nothing of how the world has changed beyond these walls since we returned from Gundabad. But death? Am I not healed?"

"Your body, yes. But Tauriel… there is something more you do not know."

"What more is there?" I questioned, still looking anywhere but at him.

He moved to stand beside me and followed my gaze up to the lights as they shimmered and danced above us. "Have I not known you for all your life? I know there is much you haven't asked. I doubt my father has enlightened you."

I would have laughed but all I could afford was a sigh as my heart began to race. Would I finally learn what had brought me back from exile only to be locked away? Would I learn the fate of those I sought to protect and help? I had dared not seek answers again from the king or his son out of what I had convinced myself was fear for whatever punishment still awaited me. That I had been afforded the ability to stay within these walls even if under lock and key was not lost on me. That I had a bed, food, water, and my banishment was, for the moment, not being so strictly enforced. I felt dread and gratefulness warring inside me since seeing the Elvenking in my chambers.

"And will you tell me? Will you shine light on this shadowed existence to which I have been condemned?"

"What you do not remember was shadowed in order to save you. He only…"

"Thranduil? You said that he healed me. But he did this to me?" I felt sick and lowered myself to the floor weakly. "Why?"

Legolas kneeled beside me. I could feel his eyes on me as I stared out across tree tops towards the towering mass of mountain in the distance.

"At Ravenhill, you were severely injured. We initially believed poison was the cause, but when we brought you to be healed, you would not recover. I can still sense great loss in you."

I faced him, weary but angry and resentful at the unwilling loss of choice. Tears threatened in my eyes. "Then you sense more than I. What you tell me is as if I accepted my fate, accepted death, but I do not know why. I can only imagine one possible reason. Still… I have no memory to lead me to the conclusion you want me to believe. And I'm afraid that I don't want to know."

Standing, I began to pace the platform. But for all I had claimed to Thranduil, all I endeavored to show to Legolas that I was as strong as I had ever been, my energy had been waning steadily. Fatigue cruelly wrapped its fingers around my head and heart, and my body gave in as well. I leaned against the cold stone wall and fought to clear my mind of the turmoil raging inside me.

"Legolas. What happened?"

He began to recount what he knew and witnessed of the battle at Erebor, from when we first arrived on our hasty return from Gundabad, how we heard the bellowing horn of the king calling retreat. I gasped as he told me of my nocking an arrow at our king. While the memory did not return completely, I could almost hear Thranduil's voice sweeping through the night demanding to know if I was willing to die for what I thought was love. It sent shivers through me and I sank to the floor. Tears threatened again, maddening me with a newly seated fear.

Legolas moved closer to kneel before me again as he then told me of Ravenhill and watching me fall from the ledge with Bolg. While he had not witnessed everything that had come to pass before we fell, he told me of finding me later back on the platform with Kili as I shut my eyes against the streaming tears. It felt like a dream. I knew what he said was truth as I could feel it within me, as the soul rending ache that had been wearing at me for weeks finally began to make sense. I felt as though I couldn't breathe. He told me how he had planned to leave but when he heard that I could not be moved from Kili's body, he had come to gather me and take me back. I barely heard him, my head just shaking in denial, but he continued. He knew it all needed to be said.

The composure on Legolas' face cracked as told me of the shivering pain I had succumb to in the healing tent, how he had berated his father, and how Thranduil could only heal my body. There were no tears in his eyes as he recalled the tense moments of Thranduil's decision, but an echo of pain lingered on his face as I tried to understand.

"Tauriel, he has said that your fëa has been torn. The only way that he could mend your broken body was to not let your memory interfere. Had you remembered, had you known and given up… I was insistent he help. I couldn't watch you suffer in such pain." He grasped both of my hands in his and searched my eyes. "Forgive me."

"Ú-moe edaved, Legolas. This was not your doing. " I took away one hand and pressed my palm to his cheek. I looked up to the stars again, searching them for all I had lost, wishing that hope might not be as painful as heartbreak. I remembered the day Thranduil came to me and left the runestone on my bedside table and murmured almost to myself, "Nauthannen i ned ôl reniannen."

Legolas looked at me questioningly, waiting for me to explain.

"Your father left this when last we spoke. I thought it brought me dreams, but I know now it was memory."

"What will you do?"

"If what you say is true, and I've never known you to lie, then I will go to Erebor. I have to know for sure."

He stood and stepped back as if scalded. "Tauriel, there is nothing for you there now. If you leave, I cannot say what will happen or if the king will ever allow you to return. And you know I cannot go with you this time."

I slowly raised myself from the ground and sighed, trying to control my breathing. I felt an urgency and panic rise within me and had to steady myself against the cool stone.

"You are still weak." He reached for me but I shook my head.

"With what you say, this will not change. Ú-ethelithon."

Anger crossed his face and he hissed at me. "Ethelithach!"

"Legolas…" Weariness filled my body, my heart. I needed to go while I still had any will and strength left in me.

"Nach gwannatha sin? Ah im, ú-'erin lîn?"

I bowed my head in sorrow.

"Gerich, mellon nîn. I must go." I looked at the stone in my hand and turned it over to look at the runes in the moonlight. Our eyes met in sadness but in understanding that our paths were never meant to run parallel forever. "If for nothing else, to return a promise."

* * *

Sindarin translations:

"Man le trasta" (What troubles you)

"Han cenin vi chen lín." (I see it in your eye.)

"Man cenich?" (What do you see?)

"Naeth… wanath." (Grief… death.)

"Dolen i vâd o nin." (My path is hidden from me.)

"Ú-moe edaved." (There is nothing to forgive.)

"Nauthannen i ned ôl reniannen." (I thought I had strayed into a dream.)

"Ú-ethelithon." (I will not be coming back.)

"Ethelithach!" (You will return!)

"Nach gwannatha sin? Ah im, ú-'erin lîn?" (Are you going to leave in such a way? Don't I also have your love?)

"Gerich, mellon nîn." (You have, my friend.)


	6. Parting Ways

A/N: Again, translations are at the bottom :)

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 6**

 **Parting Ways**

* * *

"I want every inch of the palace searched. NOW!"

The guards bowed their heads curtly and quickly. They practically ran from the throne, if not to do their commanded duties, to distance themselves from the wrath of their king.

Thranduil made his way down the wrapping stairs from his carved wooden throne and poured a cup of wine. He took one sip before tossing it aside to shatter on a stone column.

"Is everything alright?" Legolas looked at the broken glass at his feet. He'd heard the king raging and had timed his entrance luckily enough to miss being clobbered in the head by flying glassware.

The Elvenking turned sharply at his son and eyes him suspiciously. "Do not think me a fool that is unaware you've been giving the former captain respite from her… detention."

"You knew I would."

Thranduil huffed and turned away with a flourish of his silver cloak, climbing once again the steps to his throne. He seemed to speak nearly to himself as he arranged himself on the carved wood. "I should let her go if she has indeed left the kingdom. The pair of you would see to it I am never obeyed. I often feel like I have two insolent children instead of one."

"Why did you give her the stone?" When the king remained silent, Legolas stepped forward. "You knew she would begin to remember. So why?"

"Her body has healed as much as it may with her soul torn from her. Let her chose her fate."

"I do not understand."

"Perhaps one day you will." Thranduil finally looked his son in the eyes and allowed some of his deeply hidden emotions to touch his face. "You think I am heartless because I do not wear grief on my sleeve. When you have seen and felt what I have through the long ages of this world, you may begin to know."

It was no secret that his father had fought the fire drakes, seen greater wars than what may to him have been a skirmish at Erebor. There was no greater warrior than Thranduil. But love is not something he ever spoke of, not even to Legolas.

"You sought to protect her?"

"What we saw at Ravenhill… I would not wish the long years of grief on anyone. But I would not deny the kind of love I felt for your mother." Legolas looked at him with barely contained surprise at her mention. "Or that she felt for you."

The king bowed his head and looked away, as if willing away the memories before the cold facade returned to his face.

"No matter. If she is not in the palace, I would have you bring her back."

"You would still cage her?"

"Penance must be paid. Not forever. I am more just than you may believe."

Legolas turned and looked out into the cavernous palace hewn from stone, columns reaching both deep and high. He remembered watching from above as Tauriel spoke with the dwarf in the dungeons. He hadn't really understood until Ravenhill. Until the moment he found her weeping over the dark haired archer, he believed her always over zealous heightened sense of inclusion and protection for even those outside the realm was the motive. She had fought bravely in Laketown and not followed as they left the dwarves behind. He knew she struggled with his command when he had interrupted her moment on the shore.

Even when she threatened his king and father, he tried to believe that her motives were simply driven by rightness and the need to protect. He knew he'd been lying to himself, though he may have done the same. His love for her as a friend and companion for so many centuries never grew to the level that she had so obviously come to feel for the dwarf. While he had hoped his feelings for her might grow into more, he knew long before a company of 13 dwarves entered the realm that they were never meant for a life together. Would he now take her away yet again from the path she seemed so destined to follow? Everything was taking her to Erebor, so would he be the one to bring her back to a fate of waiting to die in a cold chamber cell?

His choice decided, he turned to his father and approached him. "I will not go after her."

Cold fury leapt into Thranduil's eyes even if he understood.

"And I cannot stay."

At that, the king rose and came down to stand in front of his son, holding his temper in check as best he could. His anger was directed at himself for allowing his arrogance and need for appearances to drive away one of the last people he truly loved. He wanted to reach out and touch his son, to grasp his shoulder, but he didn't dare.

"I will go north, as you suggested before." Legolas looked into Thranduil's eyes again to see the not so hidden anguish and to see more father than king. In centuries he had seen less emotion from him than he had seen in these weeks prior since the dwarves first crossed the borders of their forest. It was unsettling and for a moment he questioned his resolve. Still, he knew his time here was over and he had more to do than remain merely prince of this corner of the world.

Legolas bowed his head and turned to go.

"Legolas!" Thranduil called out to him, his hand momentarily raised as if to grasp at his arm and bid him stay. " Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya… " He placed his hand on his heart.

Legolas paused for a moment, weighing his words. He chose a different path from his father as he spoke. " Gerich veleth nîn, ada ."

He followed his father's motion, bowing his head, his hand on his heart. He looked into his father's eyes one last time to see tears and regret before turning to leave Mirkwood. He imagined it would be a very long time before he returned.

Thranduil hung his head and willed back the tears that had begun to form. He climbed the curved steps to his throne and sat, cold and feeling almost too much as if the last bits of love left within him were being torn to shreds. He shut it away deep within him and vowed to keep it buried.

* * *

Translations:

"Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya…" (May the Valar guard and protect you upon your path under the sky.)

"Gerich veleth nîn, ada." (You have my love father.)


	7. Beyond Arda

A/N:I know a lot of you are anxiously awaiting news of the dwarves and what is happening in Erebor! We will likely be seeing them soon in the very next chapter. But first...

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 7**

 **Beyond Arda**

* * *

They watched and they waited. It was not an often occurrence that they stood over their creations, but in great and dire times their heads turned to Middle Earth. They felt each blow that fell upon their children, sending them to their Halls before their time as the battle raged. Aulë paced and sighed, his love for creation injured by each destruction. It didn't matter how many fights, skirmishes, or wars he saw. He felt the loss of each dwarf as if it were the first, always reminding him of the moment he made to destroy them before they pleaded and Ilúvatar let them wake after his elves.

Ilúvatar raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I am not immune to their strife, but how have you still not quieted at knowing this always happens?"

"I dislike watching creations die. Is that wrong?"

"Children are stubborn."

"Mine in particular I think you might say."

Ilúvatar laughed. "How do your Durins fare?"

Aulë watched and tried to ignore the death on the battlefield. At least with each dwarf that fell, many more orc and foul beasts were destroyed. "It seems they've separated from the field."

"Oh?" Ilúvatar's interest piqued, he wandered over to stand beside Aulë and watch the exiled king fight his way to the top of Ravenhill with his kin. Below them, elves and dwarves fought together.

"At least they have finally come together against a common enemy."

"Aulë, I told you once long long ago that strife would often arise between elves and dwarves. Your creation was outside of the Music. The differences between our children can forge great friendships or bitter rivalries. We have seen both but always in the least likely."

They watched as the elves made for retreat and Ilúvatar sighed. "the most stubborn of mine, but I cannot blame him for all the blood shed."

"Who is that?" Aulë pointed to the flame red haired elf confronting her king. "There is something faintly familiar about her."

"We have heard her whisperings to us before."

"No. She reminds me of someone from ages long past." He thought hard on his creations and their wanderings through the ages of Arda, but could not place where this creature had come from. He returned his attention to Middle Earth as Ilúvatar placed a hand upon his shoulder. When Fíli was thrown from the ledge, Aulë shook his head and shuddered. As Thorin lay upon the ice, battling to hold Azog's blade away from him, he held his breath. He shut his eyes in terror as the blade pierced the near king under the mountain. He turned in dread to the last of the line of his first child and wept as Kíli fell from Bolg's grasp.

"This cannot be."

Ilúvatar did not speak as Aulë wept for the loss of the youngest and near to last remaining family of his first born Durin. Aulë had wandered away in grief, but Ilúvatar watched curiously as the redhaired elf battle her way back up the jagged cliffside to fall over the dwarf./p

"Well then…"

Aulë came back, tears streaking his face and questioning the Allfather. "What do you see?"

"Your stubborn one seems to have swayed one of the elves. The one you think familiar grieves for him. Even the Elvenking is moved."

They heard her cries as she pleaded for his life and wept at the loss. Expanded before them was time and all of Arda, possibility and future in an undulating turning globe. Ilúvatar looked to Aulë, a thought of all that was to come flickering across his mind, and bade him tend his fallen.

"Can we not help them at all? It is such a waste. There is so little love in the world now, I would like to see some good come of this." Aulë shook his head in sorrow and left for his halls to greet and care for those of his children that had fallen in battle, dreading meeting his three sons of Durin.

Ilúvatar remained where he was, observing all that was and would be. There was great darkness still to come, but there may be some little he would do to change the course of Arda and to relieve some of the suffering of one of his greater Valar. He had seen this before and knew he would see this again. He saw the change that had come over his elves and the dwarves that surrounded the unique elf and decided that he had long let his creations fend for themselves. The littlest of influence would change the course of so many fates but he foresaw the darkness that would fall on more than those who grieved if his hands remained idle. Aulë always had managed to sway him with his passion.

He heard the elf whisper that she would go with her fallen dwarf to the end. "And that you shall, child."

As she kissed him on the icy ground, Ilúvatar let pass what part of her fëa would spare the dwarf's life and give her that which she wished - a life that would go with him until their end. In Ilúvatar's hands, her fëa moved into Kíli to halt seeping of mortality from the sword's fatal blow moments before and lend him her ability to heal. She did not know that while she wept, her prayers had been answered before she had even whispered them. Ilúvatar smiled as he saw life hold to the dwarf, given willingly by the most unlikely of allies. What Aulë did not recall, Ilúvatar did. He was always surprised when the alliance of these races formed in such ways, although this was only the second time an alliance of elf and dwarf had gone beyond friendship. He knew great friendships between the races were still to come, and that this might influence the forging of those bonds.

He waved his hand to clear some of the shadow from that section of Middle Earth, knowing the worst was over for a time and hoping to speed the recovery of his children's kingdoms. He smiled to himself before he turned at Aulë's return.

"Have you settled them to their tasks?"

"Yes, but…" Aulë was confused but did not want to question his own maker. "I expected to see all of Durin's sons. One was missing. Even his kin seemed to feel his absence."

"Indeed." Ilúvatar indicated to where Arda spread out before them and the congregation of dwarves and elves on Ravenhill.

Aulë moved forward and thanked his maker with all his heart. "He lives!"

"They have not discovered it yet. He will sleep for now. I think you will not interfere further?"

Aulë now felt tears of joy gather at the returning hope that all he had wanted for his creation would not falter, and the hope that their creations might find some peace between each other.

Ilúvatar touched Aulë's shoulder and left him to watch his last Durin be carried from the battlefield. He sighed in relief and as he heard his children call to him, he left to attend once more those that joined him in the Halls of Waiting.


	8. Durin's Son

A/N:I know a lot of you are anxiously awaiting news of the dwarves and what is happening in Erebor! We will likely be seeing them soon in the very next chapter. But first...

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 8**

 **Durin's Son**

* * *

They slowly made their way back into the mountain from the battlefield in silence, each reliving their own portion of battle and fearing what would come next. Bilbo was practically inconsolable and could not be taken from Thorin's side, but none of the dwarves, even Dwalin, could bring themselves to try. They all felt the loss as a wound upon their own hearts.

The company carried their dead into the mountain, many with tears streaming down their face. The halls of Erebor were still quiet and empty, Dain and his armies still clearing the battlefield, so they were at least granted privacy in their grief for now. All would mourn the loss of the exiled king under the mountain, but none more than his own company and closest kin.

The three were laid with great care onto soft beds in a healing chamber as if they might feel any jostling movement that could increase ache or pain. At first they all stood silent and staring, lost in their own memories of their kin. All had willingly followed Thorin on this quest, had leapt into battle with the knowledge that some or none might come back. And yet, in their hearts none had expected that their powerful and strong leader would fall. It was beyond comprehension.

Bilbo's quiet weeping became more pronounced and broke them from their thoughts. Óin was the first to step forward, his attention first upon his king. He searched Thorin's body for wounds and guided others to help clean and redress him. This he did for Fíli as well, caring for wounds even though they no longer bothered the dead. He had just moved to Kíli when he grumbled and cursed at himself across the room from the others.

Most ignored him in their focused attention on the task at hand, but Bofur went to pat him on the shoulder. For all they'd witnessed none could believe the loss of all three. Bofur assumed the dwarf was cursing in anger and pity.

"Tell me I'm not hearing things."

Bofur tweaked an eyebrow and sighed. If the moment hadn't been so somber he might have laughed. Óin, hearing things? That would be the day.

First he placed his ear to Kíli's chest as Óin indicated. For a moment he wasn't sure what he heard, so he took the trumpet when offered. His face contorted in disbelief he looked back to Óin.

"I don't believe it."

Óin grunted and took back his trumpet, raising it to his ear. The dwarf shook his head and leaned close to the archer, placing the device to Kíli's chest. "Is faint and strange, aye. But it's there. How have his miracles not run out?"

Bofur began to cry. He knew he was right. It was faint but plain as day. Shallow and quiet breath filling and leaving the lungs, and an unusually slow but deliberate heart beat. Bofur tossed his hat in the air and cheered, to the great dismay of everyone else in the quiet chamber.

"Have some bloody respect!" Dwalin boomed in rage.

"He's alive!"

Everyone froze. When Bofur exclaimed again that Kíli lived, the eight that had been tending their fallen leader and Fíli ran into each other trying to clamor closer to see if it was true. Óin took the sword that lay by Kíli and held the blade close to his nose and mouth. The company seemed to gasp together as a light fog formed on the steel, and they all seemed to begin shouting together, calling out his name and trying to get closer to him.

"Oy! Get back, you lot!" Balin stepped forward to try and gain some sense of the situation. "Come on now, lads. This can't be. We saw how he was run through."

Óin brought Balin forward to listen for himself. "Mahal's beard, I can't believe it but it's true. Doesn't sound right… but his heart beats slow and steady."

The dwarves all looked to each other in disbelief before their eyes fell back to Kíli. They all prayed to Mahal as they watched and they waited.

* * *

Mahal heard them in the back of his mind, but he was preoccupied with the dwarf in front of him. He watched quietly as the dwarf let sand fall through his fingers in silence and confusion. He was patient and let the young one get his bearings, looking from the sand in his palm to out over the water and into the distance at the looming peak to the north.

"I thought I'd be with my brother by now. But I just keep finding myself here, stuck at the water's edge. I feel like I've been standing here for forever."

Kíli turned around and faced the immense figure before him holding the largest hammer he'd ever seen. Its only rival he could think of was that of the statue they'd destroyed in an attempt to kill Smaug.

"You are not done yet, dear child."

"But how can that be if my brother has left? And why am I still on this shore?"

Mahal smiled and kneeled down to him, so fond of his creation and contemplating how best to ease his confusion so that he might make the most of this chance he was being given. He asked Kíli if he recognized this shoreline and at first the dwarf shook his head. Mahal gave deeper thought to the landscape as the treeline formed more clearly before them and in the distance on the water, the outline of Laketown could just be seen.

"You gave a promise that you must keep."

Kíli felt his heart stutter at even the thought of the elf that had made him lost all reason and sense. "Tauriel…" he whispered as if lost in the memory of that day. "I had begun to lose hope that I might see her again once we arrived at the mountain, and then after Fíli… after, I didn't think or care for anything but vengeance. But then she was there. She was at the battle. I heard her calling for me. But… She… is she alive? Oh Mahal, please tell me it wasn't for nothing."

"Be calm. As I told you, you are not done yet. I cannot answer everything, nor can I linger long with you. So, before I go, tell me what you see in the lake?"

The waters were not the undulating tide that had swept the shore after Smaug's burning of the lake, but still as glass. Kíli stepped close to the water and looked into the deep, seeing at first nothing but his own reflection. Before he went to turn away, the shimmering silver of seven stars appeared above his shadow as if reflecting the stars above. He stole a moment to look up to the sky and found himself again confused at the clouded daylight around him. Mahal was then beside him.

"I know what it looks like, but this is not Kheled-zâram… I don't understand."

"You are not wrong. You have a larger role to play in what is yet to come and those that follow you may once again wear a crown of stars from waters deep."

Kíli looked again to the seemingly reflected stars that lingered above his head in the constellation he'd had to memorize and know all his life as one of Durin's Folk. He was mesmerized, but knew he was far from the ruler they might signify.

Mahal spoke softly to him and a soothing wave of understanding swept over Kíli's mind. "Remember that no prayer is unheard. There is much you must discover for yourself, but you will remember that the path you now lead began on this shore. I cannot tell you that it will be easy, but you cannot stay here any longer. You have lingered and waited long enough. Now, you must keep your promise."

As Kíli felt overwhelming gratefulness he was momentarily reminded that keeping his promise meant leaving behind his brother. Before he could speak, Mahal was gone and the world around him began to fade to darkness. But the darkness was then filled with endless stars that stretched out into forever. A tear fell from his eye as he remembered what an elf once told him of the light of the stars.


	9. Night Watch

**Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 9**

 **Night Watch**

* * *

It had been weeks. Bofur could not stop wringing his hat in his hands, watching as Óin moved to the bed where Kíli laid. He sighed when Óin indicated no change. Of all the dwarves, Óin and Bofur spent the most time with the youngest of their company. He remembered so clearly the day they brought the king and his sister sons back into the mountain for what they all thought was the final time. Realizing that Kíli clung desperately to the edge of life had shaken them and left the company in an unending state of anxious anticipation.

There hadn't been much to do for him but monitor his lungs and heart. The wound on his chest, though appearing deep and grave, was surprisingly clean and needed little tending. On that first day, it had needed the most attention. They had carefully cut away the clothing covering and around the wound before applying a dressing with one of Óin's homemade ointments and sealing the wound. The dressing was changed regularly even though the wound had oddly stopped bleeding well before they discovered Kili's condition. They hoped it might ease his breathing and increase his heart rate to normal, but no change had come. They spoke to him telling stories and jokes, gently eased water into his mouth, and kept an eye on him through the night.

Óin and Bofur had only abandoned their charge twice and only on the condition that someone remained with Kili. They had stepped away to join the rest of their company as they led a large procession of mourners to view their fallen king and prince. Not all the dwarves or Bilbo could contain their tears and disbelief as they walked to where their comrades lay.

Thorin had not been laid in splendor of gold or kingly robes. He rested upon the tomb in his eternal repose dressed in the garb that he wore in his final battle, that in which he had won back Erebor. The Arkenstone shone in his hands and Orcrist lay at his side. Forever he would be entombed as Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, the leader of his company who took back his kingdom and died to protect and keep it.

Fíli had been placed just as carefully on his tomb, his sword laid upon him and held in his grasp. Both uncle and nephew had been cleaned, redressed, and postured with great care. For the last two weeks, Dwalin had stood guard over Thorin during every step and through all processions as dwarves came to mourn and pay respects. He felt that he had failed in every duty, so he would carry out his protection even in his king and friend's death.

Most felt a warring of shame for failing their purpose and not knowing what was next, but Dwalin perhaps more than the rest. He had tried to reach Thorin but was waylaid by so many fell creatures to hack through. They'd slowed his progress and he couldn't help thinking of how he might have changed their fate if he'd have been there. When he was not standing guard for Thorin and Fíli, he was impatiently pacing outside Kíli's healing room or brooding in his brother's company.

Dain had taken the mantle of King and postponed official ceremonies and feasts in order to make a hasty though temporary return to the Iron Hills. None of the ten dwarves or Bilbo argued the point as no one knew what the future held for Kili. Whether he would wake or not was yet to be seen, and even less known was how changed he might be after such a destructive blow. If he ever regained consciousness, would he be fit to rule? Would his body or mind survive the trauma intact? Even though the wound to his chest had mostly closed, it was not fully healed and there was no telling what other damage was yet to be seen.

Just that morning, Bofur would have sworn that he'd heard Kíli's heart stutter even in its slowed state moments before a tear fell from his closed eyes. He called to him, touched his shoulder and gripped his hand, but got no response. His coloring was still so pale.

The rest of the morning had been uneventful. When Óin came to take over, Bofur decided he needed air. He loved nothing more than being within the mountain, but after so long enjoying the outdoors on their journey, he admitted only to himself he wouldn't mind a more frequent exposure to the cold fresh air. He thought maybe he would take over a watch on the wall or at the gates before returning to the healing room.

As he made his way through the halls of the mountain, passing where they were repairing the rooms that would be for the king of Erebor had his thoughts turning once again to their fallen friends and the uncertainty of Kíli's fate. He hoped that those rooms might be home to Kíli sooner rather than later. Mahal forbid he never wake to see them at all. Heading up the main corridor to the grand entrance, he wiped the tears from his cheeks and shook himself steady as he replaced his hat upon his head.

Relieving the dwarf at the gate, Bofur swung his scarf once more around his neck and hefted his mattock to rest upon his shoulder. Breathing deep he looked out across the open field towards the south. With the destruction of the town on the Long Lake, Dale was being rebuilt under Bard's guidance. Some lights from the city now broke through the darkness and burned until dawn. Men and dwarves were not so different, he thought, that they would both be working through day and night to rebuild their homes.

He thought back to the last time he stood watch over the gate. It was closing in on midnight and just as cold and windy then as it was now. He'd been warming his hands over a brazier and watching the elves move archers into position when Bilbo came upon him. The hobbit had thought Bofur didn't know he'd been attempting to sneak out unnoticed and was surprised to be caught in the act. He couldn't blame Bilbo for wanting to be elsewhere. He'd left the wall to wake Bombur for his watch, believing that was the last he'd see of the hobbit. Surely, he had thought at the time, the fight would not last long and none would see the end of it.

None of them should have been willing to fight the elves or anyone over gems in that treasure horde in the first place. Granted, his own opinion of elves had swayed a bit in their favor after witnessing one of them heal Kíli and then weep over him to the point of collapse. That was something he didn't quite understand but didn't question. He'd liked her and hoped she'd fare well against the wrath of that snobby stuck up king of hers.

Lost in thought and memories, he thought he might take a small wander from the gate to see if he could find any unruly sprouts of kingsfoil to bring back to Óin. Before he could really entertain the idea, movement from the south caught his eye. He swung his mattock off his shoulder and squinted, waiting in stillness until the horse and rider came clearer to his sight.

"By Mahal's beard…"

Shaking his head in disbelief, he lowered his weapon and waited for their approach. A few moments later, her cloak fell back from her head as she dismounted, revealing her long flaming hair. She approached the large gate on foot, her horse following without bidding. He shouted greetings from the ramparts.

"And just what brings one of the fine eldar folk to our humble mountain nigh on midnight?"

"Mae govannen, master dwarf."

Though a smile seemed to form at her lips, the shadows of sorrow in her eyes was one he knew all too well. Quick and nimble, Bofur came down the steps to her.  
"Lady Tauriel," he said as found himself removing his hat and bowing to the tall elf before him. "You are very welcome to Erebor."

He took a moment to be impressed by the manning of the city from Dain's men that had stayed behind as a young dwarf ran up to take care of the horse, even though he seemed unsure of its rider. Since Bofur had greeted her with welcome though, the younger one didn't question and jogged off with her horse in tow.

"To what do we owe your visit?"

"I have something of Kíli's to return."

It couldn't be anything substantial as he could see only what she wore and carried on her person. Her daggers, bow and arrows were on her and little else. Even if small, it had to be important to bring her to their gates now. Before he could ask what it might be, the sound of heavy running footsteps coming from within the mountain, stiffening both their spines. A moment later Bombur appeared, impressively large, wide-eyed and a bit out of breath. Bombur put his hands on his knees and breathed heavily while Bofur and Tauriel looked on in confusion. When he finally straightened and spoke, they shared a brief glance at each other before Bombur turned and ran back from whence he'd came. Bofur was hot on his heels and dragging Tauriel by the hand in stunned confusion behind him.

"He's awake!"

* * *

Sindarin translations:

"Mae govannen" - Well met.


	10. A Waking Dream

A/N: I hope I can provide a little joy with the return of one particular dwarf. Thank you so much to all who have left kudos and followed this story! And thank you for the comments and encouragement! It means a lot! 3 Enjoy! I know it's a bit of a short chapter, but there will be longer ones to follow :)

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 10**

 **A Waking Dream**

* * *

The cavernous space within the mountain seemed as though it would go on forever. It was easy enough to keep up with Bombur and Bofur, but not as easy to get my bearings in the labyrinth of stone corridors. I was a bit surprised at my ability to maintain running as I'd gotten so easily winded only days before and even had to stop more than usual on my ride to the mountain. I had tried to ride nonstop since I left Mirkwood, worried that I might be stopped at any moment by one of Thranduil's guard. But the woods had been quiet and my path clear to Erebor's gate, my exhaustion only diminishing the further I left the dark wood behind me.

It was as though leaving the ill of the forest lightened my heart and renewed my spirit. I was grateful for it with what I would have to face upon seeing Kíli's tomb. Although pieces of my memory remained dark in my mind, the pull towards him and the loss had begun to overtake me once more. Since Thranduil had returned the runestone to me, I held it close and pieces had slowly returned each time I ran my fingers across it. I longed to hold on to it but the heartache that it brought would steal my breath.

A part of me was frustrated at this interruption to my purpose. Once I had laid Kíli's runestone to rest with his body, I had every intention of seeking solitude on my journey west to Mithlond. Long had I heard that Círdan ferried the elves to Valinor, and I hoped to go to the undying lands in search of Kíli. Though it seemed unlikely I would find him there in the separate halls of our creators, it was the last hope I had. I knew nothing else would keep me tethered long to this world as the pieces of memory that held my connection to Kíli became clearer.

As we approached a chamber at the end of a hallway deep in the mountain, the noise level had risen steadily. It sounded like a great brawl or party with so many raised voices, until one booming voice had them all silenced. Bombur had stopped to gather himself again just outside the door and Bofur looked back at me with wide eyes as if I held the answers. There was no indication of what type of chamber or hall we had come to. I looked back at him curiously, brows drawn and questioning. A great amount of grumbling had slowly replaced the yelling as dwarf after dwarf filed out of the room. None of the dwarves even noticed my presence because they were looking at their shoes as if chastised by an angry parent. At this point I could not help but ask why he had brought me here.

"Master Bofur," I whispered, careful not to intrude or draw attention for fear that I shouldn't be there. "What's going on? Why are we here?"

"Don't you know?"

"I came to return something that belongs here… that should be buried with Kíli."

"But, lass…"

Just then, a voice beckoned from inside the chamber calling for Bofur. He looked at me long, I supposed hoping to see that I was playing him for a fool and knew the mystery all along. His eyes softened when it dawned on him that I truly had no idea what he was talking about or what was going on. He shook his head and quirked a half smile at me.

"Come on then."

He took my hand again and led me into the room where Óin was leaning over someone, his hearing trumpet pressed to their chest. Did they need me to help heal, having seen how I helped Kíli before? Perhaps the excitement was merely at my opportunely timed arrival. Bofur let go of my hand and stepped closer with a grin spreading on his face, his dimples forming craters in his cheeks.

"By all of Mahal's creations, I can't believe it!"

Óin hushed him, "I've already had to kick the rest out for all their guffawing, don't make me boot you as well!"

When Óin stood upright and turned to grumble at Bofur, he caught sight of me at the precise moment I saw who his patient was.

"Oh," was all that he said as I stood motionless and feeling yet again that I had lost all breath and blood from my body.

My eyes could not believe what I saw and all words escaped me but one. "...Kíli?"

His eyelids fluttered open as his head turned towards me. It took a moment for his eyes to focus on me. A grin spread across his face, one I thought I'd never see again. But as quickly as it had come upon his face, it was replaced by overwhelming sadness. He groaned and shut his eyes again, wincing in pain as he grabbed at his head.

"I cannot TAKE this! Mahal let me wake or die before I dream any more!"

I moved forward, Bombur and Óin moving aside to let me closer. They'd been there in Laketown and helped hold Kíli so that I might heal his leg and the poison that had threatened to take him. I had no fear of repercussions from them as I might have from any others. Careful not to disturb the bed with my movement, I sat gently beside him on the edge of the mattress and spoke his name again in disbelief.

"Tauriel, I'm so sorry. I can't keep my promise. I failed you."

I grasped his hand tightly in mine and placed it to my cheek. The warmth in his body was no trick this time and burned hot against me. I shuddered in relief in knowing that I was not dreaming myself. I closed my eyes for a moment and thanked the Valar for such a gift as the warmth of his skin and the life in his body.

He was breathing heavily and harshly as if in pain, but I could not see any wounds for the blankets that lay over him. Not knowing what state he was in, I trembled at the idea that I might have to face watching him die after everything. My memory still shadowed, I refused to think of how broken he might be after what Legolas told me had happened at Ravenhill. How could he be alive!?

"Open your eyes. This is no dream."

"It is! I am forever haunted on Mahal's forsaken shore without my brother!" He cried out. "And she… She is far from me. She is a world away and I have left her behind." Tears began to fall from his eyes and I felt my own begin to fill.

"No, Kíli. I am here."

Whether he understood or not, I drew again on my spirit and spoke to him in my own tongue. I understood all too well the desire to retreat and succumb to the darkness.

"Ú-erich o nin gwanno. Tellin men achae." I begged him. "Kíli, look at me meleth nîn."

He took a deep and shuddering breath and opened his eyes once more to look at me, lost in what he had thought an illusion. "I don't know what that means."

I laughed as tears now fell freely from my eyes. "It is my turn now to say that I think you do."

His eyebrows slowly rose in hope and a tentative smile began to creep upon his lips as he whispered my name, "Tauriel. Am I truly awake?"

"Yes, Kíli." I smiled and he brought his hand within mine back towards him. He changed grips and pressed my hand to his cheek as I had his, closing his eyes for a moment before kissing my palm.

As though that missing center might finally be mending, I sobbed in grateful relief as his arms quickly surged around me and pulled me down against him in a crushing embrace. I wrapped my arms around him carefully as I buried my head against his neck and shoulder. I held on tightly and wept.

* * *

Translations:  
"Ú-erich o nin gwanno. Tellin men achae." - You cannot leave me. We have come too far.  
"Meleth nîn." - My love


	11. The Pulse of Morning

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with this story and has commented and left kudos! The encouragement means a lot to me! And thank you to all the new readers and subscribers too! And on the plus side I might have finally figured out how to format notes here a little better from here on out! ;)

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 11**

 **The Pulse of Morning**

* * *

Endless green forest stretched out below as the shimmer and shine of the stars filled the air around me. Hanging high in the sky was a fire moon, pouring warm gold and red light into the night. There was a warm hand in mine, and I turned to see the smile that filled my heart with joy and stopped my breath. Kíli kissed the palm of my hand and led me out into a world of starlight.

I heard a soft and gentle murmuring around us as the white light dimmed and faded. Slowly I began to realize I had fallen deeply asleep, not something I was oft to do unless from healing or extreme fatigue. As I became more aware of my surroundings, I could make out more of what the dwarves in the room were discussing in the opposite corner.

"We let 'em alone while they slept -"

"You left them alone. Didn't give me much of a say, did you?"

"I think we can leave 'em alone another moment for our breakfast!" I recognized Bofur's lyrical voice easily.

"But look at the two of 'em! 'Tis not right, and she'll crush 'im! Healing him's one thing, but... It's just unnatural if you ask me." If I had to guess it was Óin responding as he seemed to have been hovering over Kíli when I arrived and until we had fallen asleep.

"Pretty sure he weighs more than she does! He hasn't breathed this easy from day one until she arrived. He didn't even wake until she got here! So she ain't hurting him. Let 'em be a bit longer. Besides… maybe I can learn how to lure a she-elf into my bed." I tried not to laugh, simultaneously thankful to know that Kíli was not the only dwarf that might bear me kindness.

There was a large grumble and sigh but no conversation resumed as I heard the two dwarves' heavy footfalls leave the room and the door click shut behind them. As I focused and forgot the conversation, I instantly took stock of my position and surroundings. I realized that I still lay on the bed beside Kíli but not quite as I last remembered. I didn't dare move as I opened my eyes to find his closed as he slept peacefully, his face a whisper of a breath from mine, our foreheads practically touching.

My body was warmer than I had ever felt and I knew it must be due to the furnace of a dwarf that lay wrapped around me. His arms were tightly wound around my torso while one of my arms was tucked against his chest and the other rested on his shoulder, my fingers tangled in his hair. Our legs seemed to be twined together. I had no memory of falling asleep, let alone us entangling ourselves so greatly. I wished secretly to myself that this is how I might wake every morning.

Hoping not to wake him, I laid quietly in his arms and watched his breath with the rise and fall of his chest against my hand. My hand that lay between us could feel the steady rhythm of his heart beat. It seemed to thrum easily and strong. How could he have been pierced there if it beat so strong and full of life? I wanted to inspect the site of the wound, but knew the time would come and it was likely some of my healing skills would be requested. Gently, I ran my fingers through his hair and brushed a stray strand from his face and watched him smile ever so slightly as he dreamt. I watched him for what felt like hours as time stretched out in his arms.

Listening closely, I could almost hear the rhythm of his heart and let it lull me to the edges of sleep again. As my eyes grew heavy and closed, I felt myself begin to drift back towards the star speckled darkness I had wandered before. It felt like I was reaching out to take his hand. Just as I slipped further towards dreams, I felt him stir against me, his hands and arms pulling me closer. One of his hands moved up along my back and into my hair. I kept my eyes closed even as a shimmering wave of warmth spread through me. He held me tightly, his nose brushing against mine and I heard him whisper to me, "Amrâlimê."

I breathed deep, the scent of him filling my nose, and opened my eyes to find him smiling at me.

"You're still here," he said.

"As are you." I smiled and tried to begin extricating myself from our entwined embrace. He was having none of it, and kept me where I was with his strong arms.

"I wasn't sure you were really here."

"Neither was I. I thought you dead."

"I think I was. For a while." His smile faltered and a deep frown crossed his face before being replaced by wistful contemplation. "My brother is gone." He closed his suddenly filling eyes and I wished I could take away his pain and loss.

"I am so sorry, Kíli."

"We thought we'd always be together."

"Is it selfish that I am glad you did not join him?" I touched his cheek and the frown slowly faded.

A sparkle came into his eyes as he looked at me again. I felt heat rising to my face as his fingers continued to play with my hair just behind my ear as he moved impossibly closer to me until I felt his breath on my face. The most painfully beautiful ache spread through my chest at even the thought that our lips would meet, and I looked forward to the sweet oblivion.

At first soft and warm with the lightest touch of a feather, his lips brushed against mine as the ache in my chest sent a wave of yearning through me. The warmth and softness of his touch as our breaths mingled had my eyes closing. My heart fluttered in my chest even as I felt a pull of longing in my belly.

In an instant, the kiss deepened and he gripped my body tight against him, his hand fisting in my hair, and our lips melded like molten fire, hungry and needy for more. I found myself clinging to him as though I would drown without him as my lifeline. The light of stars would never blind me so much as the heat of the sun that Kíli was to me. As a moan escaped my throat he pulled away.

My lips felt full and heavy, tingling from where his tongue and teeth had grazed. My whole body felt weighted against him and it took me a moment to regain my breath. I felt nearly dizzy and flushed in my face as I looked into his eyes and he grinned. I had not in over 600 years felt this kind of need or desire before, or this odd drowsy heaviness in my body. My fingers brushed through his hair and I began to move my mouth to his again, but before I could pull him back to me, I heard what Kíli did not. The faintest of taps beat on the door before it began to open.

I knew my cheeks to be as scarlet as a sunset for the heat I felt creeping up my neck and face. Somewhat unceremoniously, I disentangled myself from Kíli and stood at attention beside his bed with one hand resting on the hilt of a blade on my hip. I fought to turn off my instinct to fight or defend. For whatever reprieve I had been given to be allowed to see him and more so, sleep there, I did not want to overstep or outstay the welcome by pushing the comfort or hospitality of the dwarves.

Bofur's head peaked around the door and a sly grin spread to flash his dimples as he entered the room. "I shoulda known…" He shook his head.

Within an instant, I was at first alarmed when I heard loud coughing come from Kíli and turned quickly to his aid. Quickly I realized the cause was poorly contained laughter. I looked between him and Bofur as the joke was somewhat lost on me. I masked my confusion with feigned indifference and waited until the chuckling had finally died down shortly before Óin entered.

He grunted and squinted at me as I stood, but he bowed his head a bit before going to a corner table to fuss with some of his bottles of herbs and ointments. Though Óin was still a bit unsure of me, I knew he was in wonder of the healing I had done in Laketown and he ultimately respected me enough to not be too offended by my presence. If my being in the mountain was to be as such, I didn't think it would be too much a hardship. I regretted the thought just as quickly, when 8 dwarves piled into the room led by the furious face of Dwalin.

"What in Mahal's name is she doing here?!"

* * *

A/N: Do you hate me and my cliffhangers yet? I hope not. I'm sorry I can't resist such perfect break points! I'll behave more in the future. Maybe... ;)


	12. Meeting Resistance

. **  
Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 12**

 **Meeting Resistance**

* * *

Dwalin glared furiously, leaving very little room in the chamber for the other 10 dwarves and myself alongside his anger. If not for my exhaustion I might have stood toe to toe with him, but I was only just beginning to feel recovered since the night before.

Kíli tried to sit up straight and coughed, alarming me to move towards him as he spoke. "I want her here."

"That doesn't explain her showing up like she has! Be quiet, laddie. Who let her into the mountain?"

"I did." Bofur stepped toward Dwalin. I'd not seen him in the battle or ever being domineering towards his fellow dwarves. He usually blended in and was observing or joking as the center of attention. But now he seemed a formidable opponent as he raised a brow at the bald tattooed dwarf.

"She's with that insulting blond pointy eared bastard that caged us!" Glóin had turned red just thinking of the blond elf that had insulted his family.

Most of the company stood back quietly muttering to themselves and each other, watching the curious display of an elf standing in a guarded position over their leader's nephew and one of their own standing between her and their fiercest warrior.

As the noise volume steadily rose, I found myself barely hearing the sound for the loud beating of my heart in my ears. Though I stood there watching the dwarves argue over what might have brought me there and what decisions might be made about my fate in their mountain, I felt a brush of skin along my finger tips as Kíli's fingers intertwined with mine. He grasped my hand strongly, and I felt as though the bond we had barely begun to forge before we had been separated would not so easily break now that we had found each other again.

The white haired dwarf whose face had flitted across my memory, but I failed to recall from Ravenhill spoke up. "Listen lads. We all know she helped keep the scum off our backs at the river…"

"So she could return us to her dungeons, Balin!" Glóin boomed.

Balin ignored him with a dismissive look. "We also know the lass saved him in Laketown or he wouldn't have ever seen home again."

There was a great amount of grumbling as not everyone believed what they had heard, having not witnessed any healing miracles themselves. Bofur was known to spin a few yarns and who knew what Oin heard or saw half the time.

Balin tried to calm the room. "I'm not to believe she's got any ill plans for the young one."

Kili seemed disgruntled at being called the young one. "Oy, I'm right here you know."

"Aye. Run through, and weak as a babe."

Kili turned bright red and seemed like he might spit venom, but another coughing fit took over.

Dwalin continued to glare and eye me suspiciously. "Is not right to have this… she-elf here. Dain will have to decide."

"Brother, you know as well as I that he's gone back to the hills to bring back supplies and more folk to protect the mountain."

"Then until he returns, she'll go to the dungeon." Dwalin pulled a set of shackles off his large and well equipped belt.

"Now just wait a minute!" Kili tried to argue, fighting to control the rattling cough that threatened. "I am not a child! I fought as hard as you all. As did she! She can stay here with me as long as she likes."

He tried to sit up and stand to show he could fight on my behalf, but was too weak and breathless.

"She's got you all worked up boy. We'll handle this."

I turned to face Kíli and tried to smile as best I could, speaking quietly just to him. "Rest now. I will go."

"It isn't right, Tauriel."

I gave his hand a squeeze before releasing him and stepping towards the angry group of dwarves. My movement seemed to put them all on edge as they appeared to prepare for me to attack. I held out my wrists for Dwalin to lead me away and looked back over my shoulder. Kíli struggled to get up but I just shook my head. I could see the fatigue in him even if he tried to mask it.

Dwalin locked the heavy metal shackles and yanked me from the room. Most of the dwarves accompanied in marching me to the dungeons including Glóin holding his axe and keeping his eyes on me. Bofur walked beside me with a permanent look of apology on his face and I was glad to have him with me as I wasn't sure what fate lay ahead. A dwarf with black hair and white beard sporting a small axe in his forehead trotted beside Dwalin with an expression I couldn't quite make out. Three others followed behind muttering to each other quietly in what sounded like a combination of curiosity and suspicion. It seemed the most reasonable of the company had stayed behind with the healer, Kíli and Bombur.

As we walked deeper into the mountain, the temperature began to cool as we entered into darker and darker corridors. We came to a room that had treasure piled in sections of cages. Only two were empty and I realized one was to be mine. Having spent weeks kept under lock and key in Mirkwood, I did not look forward to more incarceration as was becoming too customary. I hoped desperately that my time here would be short lived and would not take the same toll with the knowledge my love was in the same mountain and living, breathing. It definitely lacked any of the comforts of Thranduil's confinement. At least there was a make-shift cot for me to rest on more comfortably than the cold stone.

I was ushered into one of the cells and unshackled before the door was slammed and locked. I did not turn until I heard most of the dwarves leave again, though I knew someone remained. As I turned around, I was relieved to find that the dwarf that lingered had a familiar face.

"They don't know what you did. Or don't believe it anyway," Bofur said apologetically.

"Do not worry yourself on my behalf. I know that I am an outsider here and after the treatment they received in our halls, I cannot begrudge them for their caution."

Bofur grinned. "Shouldn't I be telling you not to worry, seein as you're the one in a cage?"

I smiled and bowed my head at him. "I have only one worry, and it is not myself."

He nodded, understanding. "No one 'll let anything happen to 'im now. And the others 'll see reason. I'll be makin' sure of that myself."

I bowed my head to him in thanks. I watched curiously as he stepped closer, removing his hat and shaping it in his hands.

"When you got here, you said you brought something of Kíli's. But you didn't know he was alive?"

"No. I thought he and his brother and uncle died at Ravenhill." The thought of it made my heart stutter at the possibility.

"How is that possible? We thought you're the one that healed him."

I stepped to the bars. "No, I… I tried, but I failed."

"Maybe you didn't."

We both stood silent, lost in thought and trying to comprehend what may have brought us here. He packed his pipe and lit it, puffing thoughtfully. I still struggled with some of my memory, but everything that Legolas had told me was beginning to come into clearer focus. The truth of what he told me had been resonating stronger during the long ride from Mirkwood to the mountain and seemed to solidify when I stepped across the threshold into Erebor. I paced along side the bars as I tried to remember specifically what happened on that mountain top.

"I just don't understand."

"We can't always know what Mahal has in store for us, lass." He replaced his hat on his head and ran his hand over his chin and beard. "I'll bring you some breakfast. Try and get some rest."

I stopped pacing and watched him head for the door. "Bofur?" I waited until he paused in the doorway and turned. "Your kindness is a credit not often given to dwarves. Thank you, elvellon."

He smiled. "You're not so bad yourself. For a pointy eared Elf-maid."

He winked and laughed as he turned and left me to my solitude.

* * *

Sindarin translations:

"Elvellon" - (Elf-friend)


	13. A Reckless Recovery

.

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 13**

 **A Reckless Recovery**

* * *

Kíli stood up and rolled his eyes. "I feel fine!"

"You basically came back from the dead, lad. You can't be that fine!" Óin shoved a walking stick into Kíli's hand. "We've got to build up yer strength again after being practically dead and then asleep so long. 30 minutes."

"I can manage longer. This is ridiculous!" He refused to tell them he felt weaker each day rather than stronger.

"If you can, then we'll see."

In truth, the reason he wanted to be let out of bed for longer was so that he could venture down to the cell Nori told him Tauriel was being kept in. It had been more than a few days since he'd seen her. Nearly a full week, and he'd only been out of bed and walking the last couple days. Or so the rest of his company thought.

Twice when he awoke restless in the night he had tried to make his way to the dungeons to see her. The first time he struggled to make it much further than down the hall, and the second time he had heard Glóin and Dwalin approaching around the corner and had to rush himself back to bed before being caught. He'd yet to make it down another level, let alone all the levels down to the dungeon hall.

It seemed greatly unfair that they should have been brought back together only to be separated again for no just cause. He couldn't quite raise the strength in his voice to convince any of them to listen to reason.

When the company had all come to visit and took turns keeping him company, he had asked Nori to keep an eye out and make sure that if anything happened to her that he wanted to hear about it. He hadn't told anyone, but in the days since they had taken her further into the mountain, his chest had begun to ache more with each passing day. In the few and far between moments where he was left to himself, he examined the wound to his chest. He could almost remember the pressure but not the pain as the end of the axe pierced his armor and body. He mostly remembered the cold coursing through him before being flung onto a sandy shore.

How he now was left with just a scar and slight discoloration where the gaping wound should have been, he wasn't sure. He thanked Mahal every day and night that he still drew breath and had the chance to pursue a life he'd thought cut short.

He moved slowly about the room distracted, as he was thinking how much time it would take to traverse the steps down to where Nori told him Tauriel was being kept one level above the Great Hall where many had spent their time sorting and organizing the treasure horde once Smaug had vacated the mountain. He had no idea just how long it would take to get there and get back, not with how weak he still felt. It was a source of pride he tried not to let the others see just how weak he truly was. When Tauriel had been in his arms, he'd felt almost more whole and strong than before. Granted, the cough that was lingering was coming back with a vengeance and had everyone hovering and thinking he might still leave them all for the Halls of their ancestors after all.

It was infuriating. He longed for his brother at his side to make fun of him and joke and laugh with him. He would likely berate him for being so stupid as to try and help an elf in battle. Reckless. Foolish. A diatribe of words unfit for the stern dwarves of Durin's line. He couldn't help it. Mahal knew he'd tried most his life to fit in better, but at some point he just gave in. He was different.

For all the grief his brother had given him over the years, the levity was often a welcome relief. Almost every moment spent on his sickbed, Kíli had wondered how he would manage to exist without that half of him. He sometimes thought he would drown in the anger and sorrow he felt for the loss of his brother and uncle, the two people who understood and forgave him his faults the most.

And when he slept, he dreamt of red hair.

Óin was busying himself with more concoctions that Kíli feared he'd have to suffer through. They stank, and Óin was insistent they'd help his cough with the fumes. Half the time he had to hold his breath or cover his nose just to avoid passing out from how rank it smelled. He didn't want to know what ingredients the grumpy dwarf was using.

Before allowing himself to wallow further into his reverie, he moved towards the door.

"At least let me out of this room. I have yet to see almost any of the city and I'm going mad in here!"

Óin grunted. "I'm not sure ye can handle all the stairwells and levels."

"Shouldn't we try and see, then? Else we'll never know." Kíli smiled as innocently as possible, something he did not often succeed at.

"If only to keep ye quiet!"

Kíli grinned in triumph. At least he'd get a bit fresher air and feel less like an invalid. Óin stepped beside him as they left the healing room and made their way slowly down the corridor. He glanced down one of the staired paths that he believed led to where Tauriel was being kept, but was guided the opposite direction by Óin's hand on his elbow. They took the slope slowly and had to pause at a landing for Kíli to catch his breath. His lungs had felt a bit tighter as they moved further up the mountain.

"Y'alright son?"

"Yes. Just… needed a moment. I'm fine, I just haven't been out of that blasted room in so long."

"I told ye, you're still weak. Let's go back before the lot have my head for letting you out too soon."

"No. Let's keep going."

"Not if you kill yerself! I thought you were better, but your lungs aren't keeping up. I don't like it."

Not taking no for an answer, Kíli pushed forward and continued on the path. Each step felt like more weight was being tied to his ankles. His shoulders began to feel pinned down. He fought against the invisible weight and shook his head at the slight grey around his vision. He would do this. He had to if for no other reason than to be strong enough to rescue a wrongly imprisoned elf. As they reached the next landing, several of the company were coming down towards them and all broke out in cheerful greetings.

"Here's the lazy lad! Letting us do all the dirty work rebuilding this place!" Balin smiled and continued down to hug him.

"He's got the right idea of it!" cried Bombur.

"So you've been allowed out? Did you talk his ear off or something?"

"I'm pretty sure he wanted to crush his trumpet if I had said anymore about needing out of that blasted chamber!" Kíli laughed, but soon began coughing and put his hand to his chest. The scar ached.

"Right, that's enough. I think we've done plenty today." Óin stepped forward to take Kíli's elbow and guide him back to the healing chambers.

Kíli simply shook him off and leaned against a wall. He felt a little colder than usual and watched as a few of his friends' faces grew concerned.

"What is it?"

"You're shaking." Dwalin raised an eyebrow at him and eyed him up and down.

"What? No, I'm not. I'm fine." But when he looked down he saw that the hand that held the walking stick was not at all steady. He hadn't noticed. As he tried to raise his arm to look at his shaking palm, it felt more like trying to lift a leaden trunk.

When his vision greyed around the edges he noted that he was slumping down to his haunches on the floor. It was all rather confusing as he felt like his body wasn't quite his own, disconnected and separate. Dwalin was the first to lunge forward and take him up, throwing one of Kíli's arms around his neck and shoulder. Taking his weight, he got Kíli standing and started down the steps towards the healing hall again.

Kíli muttered, "Bunch of nonsense. Totally fine. Could take on an army of trolls and spiders."

"Sure ya could."

Óin followed behind them while the others had dispersed back to their tasks so as not to crowd their wounded kin at the healer's request. Bofur was in the chamber when they returned and at first smiled as he began to accuse them of not including him on their first outing. Once he saw Kíli's state, he moved quickly to his other side to help Dwalin get him situated on his bed.

"What'd ya do?"

The moment Kíli was laid down, he was dragged under to sleep. For all the cajoling, they couldn't wake him and resigned themselves to watching him like a hawk. Dwalin seemed angrier than before and swore it had something to do with dark elvish magic that the redhead had done to him. Bofur tried to reason with him as best he could but realized that Dwalin might forever hold a grudge simply to stay angry at something other than himself out of feeling like a failure.

Nothing had removed that guilt, no matter how the rest of the company tried. His grief had driven him nonstop where he was working at all hours to clear halls and rebuild, or standing guard over Kíli. It was plain as day to the company that Dwalin had decided if he couldn't protect Thorin, he'd be damned if he wasn't going to do better for the fallen king's nephew.

"You and I both know this is that elf's doing!" Dwalin's voice boomed in the small room as he paced.

"I've been tellin' ya, you have it backwards." Bofur took out his pipe and packed it thoughtfully, trying not to pay much attention to his raging friend. He didn't think yelling back would do any good, and would rather avoid waking Kíli. Not that he'd wake if the mountain fell on him for how fast he went under.

"Never trust an elf! She may be a witch like the one I've heard about all these years!" Glóin chimed in and had Bofur covering his face and sighing.

"Oh, such a suspicious folk are we!"

Nori, who hadn't spoken an opinion and preferred to listen, stood watching on the other side of the room with his brothers. Dori kept grumbling to him, but he was too focused on the main commotion and keeping an eye on Kíli. Neither brother noticed their younger, Ori, close his book and step forward.

Quietly, he tried to interject into the argument. "You know… I read something once that if an elf heals -"

"Shut up, Ori!" Echoed in the chamber as several of the company shouted at him.

"Well, but -" He was quickly cut off again when Dori snagged his cloak and tugged him back to the corner of the room.

Dwalin stopped his pacing long enough to look hard at Kíli and his ragged breathing. "Right. We'll sort this out once and for all."

Balin put a hand on Dwalin's shoulder. "Brother, keep your head."

He merely sloughed off his brother's hand and when the stern warrior stormed out of the chamber with Glóin following quickly behind, Balin sighed and told the rest to leave him be. "He'll go throw his axe about and get it out of his system and we'll all be better off."

Most of the company slipped quietly out of the room, including Nori who hoped to see what he could find out about their elven prisoner. Balin and Ori wandered slowly from the chamber in deep conversation, leaving Kíli under the watch of the two who had spent most their hours at his side.

Bofur puffed on his pipe and turned to Óin. "So. What happened?"

Óin shook his head. "I'm not right sure. We were out for more walking and he started shaking. Didn't seem to even know it himself. Within a moment he seemed to go limp and faint."

"I thought he's been doing better not worse?"

"Aye, as have I. Doesn't seem right to me, but past few days his color has been going again. I thought him past the worse, but the cough's still as bad. He's sleeping longer each time he shuts his eyes."

Lines creased across Bofur's face as he watched Kíli breathing heavy and labored.

"Likely he's just wore himself out. I'm no fool. He wants down to the dungeon."

"Can ye blame im?"

"You and him and the damned elves! Something wrong with the both of ya!"

Bofur laughed and drew a chair up beside Kíli's bed to watch him through the night, while in another part of the mountain, Ori went in search of the library and any texts to support his research on the healing arts of elves.


	14. The Boiling Point

A/N: I just thought I'd make a little note about this chapter. As you've read so far, Dwalin's pretty unhappy with having an elf in the mountain. He's not coping very well with the loss of Thorin, Fíli, and almost Kíli and so he kind of starts to lose his control a bit. I know he's not endearing himself into anyone's hearts with his actions towards our heroine, but it all begins to resolve in the next chapter. I know this one might be rough, but I'll try to give you some TLC and fluff as soon as I can! So hang in there!

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 14**

 **The Boiling Point**

* * *

Time became inconsequential and all that mattered was returning to Kíli. I turned his runestone over and over in my hand, my fingers tracing the grooves. By now, I imagined I could write the runes by memory as I let myself drift in and out of awareness, having stopped keeping time after the first couple days locked in a less welcoming prison than before.

The days and weeks spent pacing by a window overlooking the main walkways within Thranduil's halls seemed almost luxurious in comparison. The bed I had been afforded under the Elvenking's charge was obviously better suited for my long limbs, whereas now I found myself hunched and curled on the dwarven cot meant for prisoners of their own kind. I doubted greatly they ever really expected to imprison an elf in their dungeons. Or that an elf would ever allow themselves to be detained as such. Most elves would not find themselves in such a situation. Being typical of my race was not something I had been accused of before and it seemed might never be.

I had always been too foolhardy and opinionated, never simply falling in line quite as was expected of the guard. Though it had granted me the ability to climb in rank and earned me favor with the king, it was always a source of trouble between us. His unwillingness to expend our energies beyond our borders was something I fought strongly against, never truly understanding why he sequestered us away so drastically from the world.

Bofur, the only one of the company who spent any time with me, imparted only bits and pieces of what might have passed between Thranduil and Thorin's grandfather. How much was embellishment, I did not know. But nor did he as he said he hadn't been there himself to witness what came to pass, and Thorin was permanently bitter towards the king for a great many reasons.

Dwarves were in and out of the cavernous hall that held the bulk of the treasure horde Smaug had long guarded. Only Bofur came to visit me regularly and keep me company, though occasionally one dwarf with a rather bowlish haircut took over the duty of bringing me food. I could hear others sorting through the mounds of gold and jewels, organizing and carting them away to where I assumed they were rebuilding workshops.

When all was quiet and I was alone, I occupied myself with recalling what I could of my time during the battle. Trying to visualize all that Legolas had told me helped anchor my mind as I tried to fill in what blanks were left.

As though I were back at Ravenhill, I could smell iron, dirt, and the stink of orc. The clash of steel rang in my ears. There were white flurries of snow in the air. I saw Kíli wrestling with the large orc as I felt my breath explode out of me. It was like being a part of the scene as it unfolded before me, and still watching from the sidelines. I clung to the knowledge that Kíli was alive and resting in the same mountain as I was once again tossed from the orc's shoulders and Kíli faltered. I froze in disbelief as I watched Bolg pierce his chest. Seeing it again in my mind stole the air from my lungs and my concentration broke as I felt myself swing Bolg and myself over the cliff.

"Oh Iluvatar…" I gasped. My eyes filled as I pressed the heel of my hand between my breasts and leaned over between my knees to catch my breath. The pain that had ripped me apart that day felt so fresh and new in that instant of memory. After so much time spent angry with my former king, I finally understood what Legolas had told me he did. It had made so little sense in the beginning of why Thranduil would have denied me the memory of realizing my love for a reckless dwarf. It had seemed his own prejudice was interfering, but now I knew otherwise.

Now I knew that in many ways I owed my life to Thranduil. Had this knowledge, this overwhelming loss not been kept from me, not only would I have suffered the physical wounds from battle but I would never have held on to life. Knowing that Kíli was nearby helped to clear the worst of the ache in my chest even though it lingered as it had before I saw him with my own eyes.

I stood to stretch and tried to draw upon less painful images and memories. It seemed as though the confines of my space were making me increasingly achy, something I was not overly familiar with. Though I had been weak when taken back to Mirkwood, I had no lingering pain from my wounds.

I desperately wanted to see the sky and stars, and hoped that maybe one of the more friendly dwarves might be able to give me even the shortest of respites from looking at solid stone. If nothing else, it would help me escape the torment of my memories and thoughts.

Whether he knew it or not, I noticed that Nori had been down to check on me once or twice. I had desperately hoped I might gain some knowledge of how Kíli was fairing from him but he didn't speak to me, only seemed to observe and flee again.

The few times I had seen Bofur, he had no news and conversations were usually cut short by Glóin or Dwalin coming to get him for what I was sure was fake urgent business. They didn't want us getting too friendly, that was obvious. It was impossible to blame them. For all the things I'd been told about dwarves, I was sure they'd heard just as bad or worse about elves. Knowing now the history of Thranduil with those from Erebor made it even easier for me to understand. There was little trust between our races, and both could be equally stubborn.

The stubbornness of dwarves was becoming more and more evident during the visits Dwalin would pay to my cell. He sought answers for why I was in the mountain, whether the king had sent me, and what sort of magic I was casting over their kin to cause his odd recovery. It was clear to me that fear or grief were driving forces behind this dwarf's motives.

He grew more agitated with each day that passed and nothing I could tell him seemed to please or satisfy him. To his mind, my timing was more than coincidental and my claims of returning something belonging to Kíli was a ruse. I couldn't begin to imagine what it would be a ruse for.

I explained I was no magical healer or whatever else he might have been led to believe, whether light or dark, good or evil. I kept to myself that I still held the runestone in my possession for fear he might confiscate it and leave me with nothing tangible to hold onto. No one knew yet what it was I had brought with me. And so far, I wanted to keep it that way.

Although Kíli had said it was a simple token, it had definitely become more of a talisman for me. It was all I had to pour my wishes and hopes into as I thanked the Valar that I even had the little extra time I'd had with him. Otherwise I had nothing to hide and answered what I could. Still, it never satisfied and Dwalin always left with a sterner and harder countenance than he had come with.

I wondered at the turnabout for me to now be at the mercy of the same dwarves we had imprisoned in Thranduil's cells. I could not help my mind from the doubt that overwhelmed me when I wondered if this would forever be the future of my relations with dwarves and if I would succumb to the constant separation. It made me wonder if those who would keep us apart were only the beginning of opposition. It was equally saddening as it was infuriating that so many would rather segregate the people of Middle Earth when there was obviously the possibility for kindness and love between us all.

When I heard the heavy footfalls and light tinkling of metal in the distance, I sighed and wondered if today would be much the same. I'd no idea that Dwalin was in a worse state than I had ever seen him.

"I've had it with your lies once and for all. I'll have it out of ye if it's with yer last breath!" he bellowed as he stormed into the room.

I stilled completely where I was and glared, meeting his eyes. It was growing more and more tiresome to be accused of malicious intent. I had yet to see him this agitated, and while part of me feared his actions against me I was more concerned with what goings on in the mountain had caused such a dangerous rise in temper. From the moment the dwarves had entered into Mirkwood, Dwalin had been noted not just by myself to be the sterner and stronger of warriors in the company. Yet he followed the lead of his king. I could not speculate as to how he might behave without the king he also considered a brother.

I took a deep breath as he approached the bars of my cell, red faced and practically steaming. He had obviously reached his boiling point.

"I've seen the treachery of your people and this is the last time I'll let it claim any kin of mine in this mountain." He was close to shaking as he reached for the keys on his belt.

Claim his kin? I knew he spoke of Thranduil turning his back on the dwarves when Smaug sacked the mountain. But now? Did he mean that Kíli had succumbed to the wounds that should have killed him?

I stepped forward towards the bars and demanded answers for myself. Playing the agreeable prisoner was getting me nowhere.

"What happened? Tell me -"

But he interrupted me as he flung open the cell door and barged inside towards me. I couldn't help but retreat a few steps to avoid being bowled over.

"I'll tell ye NOTHING, witch. They should have never let you in the gate. We should have known that you'd been poisoning his mind and body since you had him locked away from the rest of us!"

"I would never harm him! You know this."

"More lies! Who else is to blame for his faltering in battle? For his weakness? Whatever you did to him will take him from us again!"

I swallowed and thought of Kíli, hoping beyond all reason that he was not lost. What Dwalin said stung deeply as I had long felt Kíli may never have fallen if he had not come to my aid. But did we really survive only to be given a brief final moment before our lives would be severed again? Never had I questioned the fairness of Iluvatar until now. I was angry at the distrust earned by others being placed on my shoulders, but I had no intention of fighting any of Kíli's kin, no words that might soothe.

Unconsciously my hand moved to my pocket where I might find comfort from the runestone. In a flash Dwalin had me cornered against the cold stone wall. Before I knew it his hand moved to grasp at my throat. "I should rid us of your curse once and for all. Maybe then he'll wake again."

Reflex had me thrusting my arm upwards into his to knock his hand away, but I was obviously still somewhat weakened as he merely tightened his grip. In my attempted defense the runestone was knocked from my grip. I struggled for a moment as I searched his eyes trying to comprehend what he meant by Kíli waking again, but then froze and questioned my own fate as I heard the stone hit the floor.


	15. Building Bonds

A/N: I know the last chapter was left on such an angst driven cliffhanger! I'm sorry to my lovely readers but glad you're back for more! We have a little bit of a break from the excessive turmoil with a little levity brought to us by one of my other favorite dwarves, as well as a longer than usual chapter. I hope you enjoy! And thank you immensely to everyone who gives kudos, comments, subscribes and continues to read and hopefully enjoy my story!

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 15**

 **Building Bonds**

* * *

The sound of the runestone clattering to the ground filled the otherwise silent chamber.

I stared wide eyed as I felt Dwalin's grip on me loosen momentarily. His eyes were focused on the small but recognizable stone that had landed at the toe of his boot. In that mere moment of distraction, it would have been all too easy to reverse our fortunes and gain the upperhand to demand my own answers. There was a part of me that I had to admit to myself wanted to show this dwarf what I was capable of. But I had no ill will towards him or any of them other than keeping me apart from Kíli, and no desire to cause discord or shed blood. And so I remained still and hoped that he knew what lay at his feet before I felt forced to defend myself at his expense.

"Where did you get that?" His grip tightened as if a new spark of anger was ignited at believing I might have stolen something sacred.

His hand on my throat was making my pulse hammer in my ears as I tried to calm my breathing. My eyes bored into him and my nails dug into his wrist angrily. Talking was more painful than I realized.

"It was given to me."

"Why should I believe you?"

"You know who it belongs to!" I cried out, furious at the tears finally betraying the whirlwind of fear, anger, and sorrow I had been trying to keep from not only him, but myself. "Why would I lie? Just… ask him."

He opened his mouth as if to say something but did not answer, eyeing me with the same contempt and suspicion he had long cast my way. However, a new layer of emotion shadowed his gaze, his voice. A shiver of fear took me at why. Just what had set this dwarf I thought fearsome but honorable over the edge? His actions seemed less honorable each day. He said he hoped Kíli might wake again but hadn't he woken when I arrived at the mountain? Surely, he was fine or they'd have told me. I told him the rest, since my only token now lay at his feet between us. Short of Kíli himself, I had nothing else to lose.

"He gave it to me after laketown burned. I came to return it to him." I thought I might choke on the words even without his tightened fingers. "When I thought he was dead... I'd have seen it buried with him."

His eyes sparked as I trembled at the idea of finding Kíli cold and entombed. I saw a flash of what seemed like terror and memory in Dwalin's eyes. His hand released me as though he had been singed and I slumped to the floor, utterly exhausted.

He looked at me again with what I could only hope was new understanding, but grief and shame took center stage in his eyes. He had stumbled a few steps back and in a daze bent to retrieve the stone, examining the carvings as though they held every truth and secret he'd thought I'd been keeping. His hand shook as he stepped further from me, his eyes now completely averted and looking anywhere but mine. He placed the runestone on the edge of my cot as he all but fled the cell.

Dwalin paused only a moment at the threshold and if not for my elven hearing I might never have heard him whisper. "I… Forgive me."

When the sound of his footfalls were long gone and nothing could be heard but my own breath, I allowed myself to bury my head in my hands and weep. I reached for the stone and held it hard against my chest. I tried to focus and steady my breathing. The confrontation left me winded and pained, and I wondered if there was any hope left for me, for Kíli, for us. I tried to clear my mind and breathe, focusing on the purest memories I had to hold on to.

I couldn't be sure if it was a mere moment or a long time later that Bofur's hands on my shoulders drew me from my meditative and contemplative state. "Are you alright? What's happened? Nori said - "

Drawing myself together, as recovered as I imagined I would get, I simply shook my head. "It is nothing. I am well, master dwarf."

"Well he was right. You look pale." He raised my face with a finger on my chin and tsked at me. "More than usual for your kind, I mean."

"I promise you, elvellon. Though fresh air and starlight would revive me more than I can say."

"I think we can arrange that. But first, I have a request to make."

I stood slowly. "I would be happy to oblige."

Bofur laughed. "You haven't heard what it is yet!"

I smiled softly at him. His oddly curving braids and floppy hat had long endeared him to me. How frantically he had raced up the steps in Laketown to bring athelas to Kíli, and his trust in me to heal his friend would always mean I owed him trust and friendship. Without his acceptance of me, Kíli might have been lost long before. It seemed that if I was destined to love a dwarf, I was equally meant to befriend his friends and kin even if not all.

It was then I realized we had an audience. One of the younger of three dwarven brothers stood bashful near the entrance holding several books. I looked back to Bofur.

"What would you ask of me, Master dwarf?"

"Well first call me Bofur. Now then, I'm not sure you've been properly introduced to Ori here. Come on lad, she'll not bite!"

He motioned the dwarf forward and Ori blushed as he stepped into the room further.

"He's usually got his nose buried in his pages. Go on then, ask her!"

I turned my attention to the young dwarf with the rather dopey expression and equally dopey bowlish haircut. While Kíli's youth had brought on recklessness and passion, it seemed Ori's had left him still with a degree of innocence and bashfulness.

"I was wondering if… maybe… well…" He fumbled with the books to bring one to the top of his pile. "Could you translate this?"

He shoved the book into my hands. I gently wiped a thin layer of dust from it's cover and read the script. I smiled kindly at Ori. "I would have thought such a well read person would not need a translation."

He blushed and looked at his feet. "I'm well versed in tengwar, but this is not Westron or Khuzdul. I'm not as learned with the elven languages."

"I was merely teasing, Master Ori. I would not imagine many dwarves are familiar with our languages. I would be happy to help."

The text was Sindarin and would be easy enough for me to translate as I knew more of my mother tongue than any other variations. At a glance, it appeared the book held what might be recipes, instructions, and anecdotal histories related to healing. It was a curious text for the dwarves to have in their possession, but I had heard that at one time Erebor was rich in more ways than just gold and held an extensive library. Perhaps in the weeks since battle they had uncovered some of their previous riches beyond the gold and jewels that had acted as Smaug's bedding.

Ori stepped close beside me and tried to read around me as I gently paged through the beginning of the book.

"I keep thinking I understand bits and pieces, but then it loses me again."

I smiled, though somewhat pained as I still felt the weariness from dealing with Dwalin. Bofur obviously noticed my exhaustion and gently nudged Ori aside so that he could take the book from my hands. He placed it on top of Ori's stack.

"Let's get you some fresh air. Then the two of you can bury your noses in books for as long as you like." Bofur took my elbow jovially in his arm. With my low energy, I was grateful that the dwarves were in no hurry and we meandered slowly back up through the stone streets and pathways towards the gates. However, we did not go directly to the gates where I had long ago entered the mountain, but veered down yet another corridor that led to a western facing outcropping.

The closer we had gotten towards the opening in the mountain, I felt calmer. As we stepped onto the ledge, I looked up into the night sky and immediately felt a wave of serenity wash over me. The stars shone brighter than I'd remembered, the air crisp and cool on my skin. I closed my eyes and let the night air surround me, imagined my walks through the forest and starlight back in Mirkwood. I remembered one of the last times I was able to enjoy Mereth Nuin Giliath, long before dwarves had crossed our lands and changed the course of my life forever. But I would not have traded partaking in the feast for the time I was given with Kíli.

I sighed and a smile crossed my face at the memory of his exuberance in sharing his tales of a fire moon.

"You're already looking better, lass."

I turned to Bofur and thanked him. "I have been longing for the light of the stars. There is nothing that wood elves love more."

"No? Is there not?" He winked at me.

I laughed, though I felt a slight flush rise to my cheeks. "Perhaps, rarely, there are some things more beloved."

I looked again to the stars and took in their light to my mind and memory before stepping back to the dwarves. "Should we return?"

"Are ye sure? The air is clear, the stars are bright. We can stay a bit longer if you like."

I breathed deep. "I would, then. Yes."

When he nodded and leaned back against the rampart to light and puff on his pipe, Ori settled himself on the ground with one of his books and a quill. I gazed up into the far reaching light that held the most precious of memories, and allowed the night sky and air to restore me. The peaceful quiet soothed the ragged edges still left from my wounds, heartache, and turmoil I was finding under the mountain. It still ached dully in my chest to have found Kíli alive and then be taken from him yet again. My desire to keep peace between myself and the dwarves was costing me more than I had imagined. I would not be able to remain silent and submissive.

Though I continued to face up to the starlit night, I glanced briefly at Bofur out of the corner of my eye.

"Was this once your home as well, Bofur?"

He came to stand beside me and look up at the same stars with me.

"No, lass. Me and my brothers called the Blue Mountains home. Far in the west, almost as far west as you could go. Almost to the sea with the long river lune running along on the eastern slopes."

"I have never been that far west, not beyond Hithaeglir." When he looked at me questioningly, I translated to the common tongue. "The Misty Mountains."

"Really, now? There's so much to see! Besides, there's nothing like a bit of adventure when you've spent most your life mining."

"Or climbing trees."

He laughed.

"So you were a miner?"

"Oh, and a toymaker and … singer. Dancer. Drinker. Really, the list is as large as… well. You know what they say about dwarves, don't you?" He winked at me and I laughed. "We may be short and stubborn. But we've got mighty bearded axes. As I'm sure you've found out!"

I raised a brow, not following right away.

"You know… Long sword? Fiddle stick? Third leg? The -"

I blushed and turned to him shocked. "I get it! And of course, in between saving you lot from dying and trying not to die myself, we nipped off to the forest. Yes, Bofur. That's exactly what happened."

He snorted and slapped me on the back, knocking me a step forward in the process. "I didn't know elves could have a sense of humor."

I shook my head at him. But then a less than amusing thought came to mind. "Is that what everyone thinks? Of Kíli?"

He shrugged. "I don't really listen to most of what anyone says or thinks for that matter. It's all a bunch of nonsense. And they don't know you. Don't care much about elves, the rest of em. Kíli's always been a bit odd and had a fancy for the thinner, taller folk. But no one really knows what to make of you."

"You're the only one that asks. Dwalin in particular seems to have made up his mind." I rubbed my throat, still not fully recovered and it was clear my healing was still so much slower than before my injuries.

Bofur sighed. "He hasn't been the same since Thorin fell. Close as brothers, those two. Always fighting side by side. And losing a brother that way, well, makes you hold on a bit tighter to what ya got left. It doesn't help he blames himself."

"For what?" I turned to look at him then and watch his brows knit.

"He'd have cleaved through the whole army of orcs and trolls, sacrificed his limbs to keep Thorin alive. Instead, they watched Fíli fall and Kíli charge off, and no matter how many he sent to the grave, he'll always feel he failed them all. If you think about it now, Kíli's all that's left and he's a bit of a reminder."

"Hmm."

He reached up and patted my shoulder much softer this time. "Don't be worrying about him, now. He's as honorable a dwarf as he is a warrior. Best brother to have at your side in a battle and always fair. But like I said, he's still lost."

His description did not entirely match the dwarf I had encountered in my cell. While the honor and fairness could be questioned in recent days, the grief had been palpable.

I turned to face him and look into his kind eyes.

"Will you tell me how Kíli fares?"

He seemed to weigh his words more carefully than usual. "Well about that, he's actually -"

Just then Ori jumped up from where he'd been reading and writing.

"Why don't we go check on him?"

I was a bit baffled at his sudden exclamation and joining in the conversation when he'd been so enthralled in his papers until that moment. But nothing would have made me feel more at ease than laying eyes on Kili myself. I looked back to Bofur and he motioned his head towards the stairs.

"Well let's go then."

I walked ahead with Bofur and Ori whispering behind me thinking I might not hear.

"What are you about, lad?"

"I've an idea about her healing. I think this may prove me right."

Bofur sighed quietly. "She's said she doesn't think she had anything to do with it, you know."

"Maybe. Maybe she didn't, or maybe she doesn't know. But one way or another I think they're connected somehow… so we'll find out soon enough!"


	16. A Reviving Scent

A/N: Hello everyone! First off, thank you so much for your kudos, comments, and subscriptions! Enjoy!  
EDIT Feb 15 - I am AWFUL! I apologize deeply for accidentally posting my previous chapter as chapter 16! I've adjusted it now, and will be posting a couple extras to make up for my mistake 3 I'm terribly sorry that I did not catch this sooner and thank you to those that let me know!

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 16**

A Reviving Scent

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Maybe it was my nerves or feeling refreshed from the open air outside of the mountain, but I could feel an energy returning and coursing through me as we turned corridor after corridor towards the healing halls. I knew it was in part the anticipation of seeing Kíli again. Before we could enter the room though, Bofur stopped me and put his hand on my arm.

"I didn't tell ya before because I didn't want you to worry, though I'll know you'll do so anyway. He's been out and in a fever for a while and we've had some trouble bringing him round."

"How long?"

He scratched his neck and looked at me quite sheepishly. "Three days."

I immediately pushed past him into the room to find Kíli had lost some of his color and was in a restless deep sleep. Even with his pallor he had a sheen of sweat across his brow and trembled under the covers. He looked so close to how I had found him at Bard's that for a moment I froze, reliving how I'd been torn between duty and saving him. I felt enraged and turned on Bofur who took a step in retreat.

"Why? Why was I not brought here sooner? And where is Óin?"

"Can you help him like before?"

I looked around the room and went to the table that held Óin's herbs and concocted ointments. I rifled through them searching for whatever I might be able to use, relieved to find that Óin had taken to now stocking athelas after my use of it in Laketown.

"I hope so." I thrust a handful of dried athelas at Ori. "Crush this in hot water and bring me back both the plant and the broth."

He turned and ran, Bofur looking on and forgotten by me as Kíli became my sole focus. Kneeling beside his bed, I soaked a cloth in the nearby basin of cool water and wiped his brow.

"Kíli, what has happened?" I undid his shirt to check the wounds to his chest. What had closed and become a scar across his heart now looked dark and inflamed. "I don't understand," I said quietly to myself. "These were healed. They left barely a scar!"

"He was overdoing exercise and trying to get to you, I imagine. The boy gets something in his head, he never lets go. Typical Durin. Typical dwarf really."

I shook my head at his foolishness, though my heart rejoiced at the idea that he had tried to find me, and I continued to wipe the sweat from his brow. I changed his blanket to something lighter and not damped by his sweat, and when Ori came back in I took the pot of water and athelas.

"Help me lift him. It will ease his breathing."

Bofur took Kíli from under his arms and we hoisted him to a sitting position. I took the athelas and tore it, grinding in it my palms to make a paste for the poultice. Though there was no open wound, it would act as a compress to reduce swelling and draw out what might be infection or any lingering evil from Bolg's mace. I smoothed the paste along the scar that blazed across his heart and spoke to him softly as I had before in Laketown, yet again willing my grace to pass to him. I worried that any luck I had in having the ears of the Valar would be long gone if they had ever heard my prayers for this dwarf in the first place. They had to, didn't they? Whether divine intervention came to pass in bringing him back, I could only hope they would not rescind such a gift.

I gently massaged more of the paste onto his chest. The scent permeated the air, calming the worst of my fears as I watched some of the streaks emanating from the scar just beginning to fade. Ori leaned almost over my shoulder and drew a deep breath, as did Bofur with a large grin on his face. Kíli's labored breathing eased, his face relaxing as I laid more athelas on him and wiped his brow with the cloth now soaked in the herb infused water.

"What is that you've used? Kingsfoil?" It was Ori who questioned me.

"You are right Master Ori. It is kingsfoil, also known as athelas."

"The weed?" he asked.

"It is a powerful healing herb."

"Aye, you used this back in Laketown," Bofur interjected.

Ori drew another deep breath. "It… I never really noticed. It smells, well… It smells a bit like grass and flowers but, NO! It's like the pages of my books and the leather binding. Parchment… and I can almost smell the ink!"

"You're mad!" Bofur laughed. "Books!? You spend too much time in them if you think that smells like books!"

I smiled at them and tried to soothe Ori's slight embarrassment. "Bofur, he is not wrong. Ori is a great reader and scribe, is he not? His books are his strength and bring him joy. The scent is different for everyone who smells it. I once heard of a man who found the scent like that of his horse."

This was new to both of them and Ori was so intrigued he forgot that he wanted to note down what I was telling him. Bofur simply snorted at the idea.

"Sounds like he may have taken too much to his mount!"

"Well, he was one of the Rohirrim."

"Never can tell what a man likes, can ye?" Bofur kept chuckling to himself.

"What does it smell like to you, Lady Tauriel?" Ori asked, intrigued and reverent.

I hesitated, not completely sure how to describe this new scent that was so strongly familiar and yet I could not place. Perhaps easier to tell them what I had always found pleasing in the herb until now. "It was the scent of a Spring night, of clean cold air flowing down off the mountain, high above the treetops beneath a dome of stars."

Ori looked at me in awe, absorbing what I said and listening like a child might to a bedtime story. I smiled. Bofur, of course, caught my unintentional acknowledgement that this was no longer what scent permeated the air around me.

"Was?" He quirked an eyebrow at me. "So it changes?"

"Though I did not think so, it seems I was wrong."

"What do you smell now?"

"I don't know -" My eyes lingered on Kíli, wondering, as it began to dawn on me that it was the oddly endearing rough sweetness of his scent that had now replaced my love for clear starlit nights. I looked away from Kíli to Bofur and he seemed to understand without needing my words. He patted my shoulder and chuckled before he took out his pipe.

"Well I think it's past time for supper! I think he's in good hands, Ori. Let's get a move on!"

"But -" Ori began to protest, still enamoured of the scent of the athelas and the knowledge he hoped I could impart on elves and our healing skills.

"The pages aren't going anywhere! Neither is your new friend. Come along and leave her to it! I hear some of the lads have found the old ale stocks. I'm thirsty and feel a song coming on, so we better get to it before they drain them all!"

Bofur laughed and practically dragged Ori from the room. I returned my attention to Kíli as I created more paste for his chest. The scent was intoxicating and I began to relax with the knowledge that he was alive and I would do anything to keep it that way. His chest already was looking better, his breathing calm, and some of his color returning. I stood to go get a piece of cloth to wrap around him for the poultice but was practically yanked backwards when his hand gripped mine.

"Don't go." His voice was a bit gravelled and rough, but he was awake.

"Shh. Lay still. I was only getting cloth." But I stayed beside him

"This is the second time I've woken to find you at my bedside. I can't say I mind it." He released my hand once I sat and tried to raise himself and sit more comfortably. "How long was I out?"

"Bofur told me it had been three days since you fell unconscious. They could not wake you."

"Hmm. It smells wonderful in here. What is that?"

I stood and walked to the cupboards for the cloth. "Your scar needed tending and your breathing was strained. You smell the athelas."

"Last I remember this scent was in Lakewood when I thought I was in a fever dream. Crisp clean night air, wood, and something else… It was yet another time I found you at my side. Tending me."

I laughed on a sigh. "I might not always need to be saving or tending you if your mother was not right. You are reckless."

"Don't act like you mind it."

"And if I do mind? I am not on this earth merely to mend reckless dwarves constantly at risk of injuring themselves." I gave him the best reproachful glare that I could manage in my elation that he was reviving.

He smirked and changed the subject to hide my wounding of his pride. "I feel so awake, it would be hard to believe I've been out so long if I didn't clearly remember falling in the stairwell."

Having gathered the cloth I could find, I leaned over him. "The athelas is potent at first. You will be tired again once it has done its job. Now sit forward if you can. I need to wrap this in place."

He moved slowly to sit more upright, his eyes fixated on mine, sending ripples of nerves through me. Though still leaning against the backboard, it was easier than it would have been were he still asleep and laying down. Sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, I laid the cloth gently across his chest and leaned closer so I could wrap it around his back. As I leaned forward, my arms wrapping around his torso to draw the cloth around him once more, my hair fell forward and he filled his hand with it and inhaled.

"It isn't the weed I smell. It's you." There was a soft adoration to his voice reminding me of when he gave me his runestone and first murmured words I did not think I understood.

I spared him a glance as I brought the cloth around to his chest again, trying to hide the flutter in my heart. But even a glance was a mistake as my heart tripped and my hands faltered at the eye contact. Before I could lean back and tie the cloth at his side, he changed his grip in my hair and brought me forward to him. His mouth took mine, feasting like a man starved. My hands involuntarily dropped the cloth and moved to his chest and shoulders.

I was suddenly grateful to be sitting as my knees felt weak when he pulled me against him, one arm wrapping around me as my own hand moved into his hair. When he sighed, it snapped me back to the realization I may be pressing against his wound and hurting him. I pulled away slightly, breaking the kiss to look in his eyes for signs of pain as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

"Kíli, your chest - am I hurting you?"

"I'm fine. I've been dreaming of you. Amrâlimê." he whispered a breath away.

I smiled and rested my forehead on his in relief, not knowing what significance this held for dwarves. "You would have me believe you are always dreaming of me."

He grinned and my heart tumbled again. I made to move towards his mouth and kiss him again when a deep and unmistakable voice sounded from the doorway.

"Oh believe him, lass. None of us can scarcely spend a moment here without hearing your name on his lips in his fever dreams."

I had been so distracted that I hadn't heard even the heaviest of footfalls from Dwalin entering the room. This would be a problem indeed if I were to be taken so off my guard when with Kíli. I'd have thought his recklessness rubbing off on me if I wasn't already foolhardy enough to have chased him and saved him. And loved him.

It felt as though an iron rod had replaced my spine as I stood straight and turned to him. I didn't know for how long Dwalin had been standing there or what he may have witnessed. There was no way for me to know that he had in fact witnessed everything from the moment I began wrapping Kíli's poultice. I did not recognize the difference in his stern countenance, although at least there was a calmer air about him and he seemed less tormented than last I saw him in my cell.

I understood now from Bofur what I had not before. Dwalin's loss of Thorin was equal to the loss of a brother, friend, and someone he had devoted himself to protecting. When he felt he had failed in his duty, his only recourse was fierce protection of Kíli from what he saw as a threat in many forms. It made me realize I had to be even more mindful of my behavior. Whatever he did or would witness, he would likely always feel protective over him out of regret, but also out of loyalty and love for his fallen brother and King.

His concern for Kíli had so many layers that I infringed upon just by my presence, let alone not knowing whether I returned the young dwarf's affections. Of this, Dwalin had every intention of finding out and what he had witnessed might begin to ease some of that particular worry. As Kíli had been raised by Thorin, Dwalin would at least take on protector if not uncle or father in his stead. Kíli was still young yet. And reckless.

"Master Dwalin."

"Those pointy ears of yours must be old and failing if you didn't hear me." He strode into the room to get a good look at how Kíli was doing and placed a large plate of food on the nearby table. His face was grim as crossed his arms and stood over his cousin's nephew. "You're pale."

I quirked a brow at him when he wasn't looking. His greeting to me seemed an oddly familiar retort from someone who only earlier had considered strangling the breath from me. I knew that dwarves were an ornery folk who often teased and insulted as a form of endearment as I had begun to experience with Bofur. But I dared not assume as much or respond in kind with Dwalin, though my tongue wanted to lash at him for his treatment of me in the dungeon. I bit my tongue as best I could in hopes of garnering some form of peace.

"I am only 6 and 30."

"That would make you practically a babe to us!" I looked at the shocked expression on Kíli face and then turned immediately to Dwalin who had begun chortling deeply.

"I don't understand."

"By my beard! You hear that boy? You're a cradle robber!" Dwalin continued to laugh but I wasn't so amused even once I recognized my mistake. They thought I meant I was merely 36 years of age.

"It's not that funny, Dwalin."

"Six hundred and 30," I corrected with more pride than necessary as I began collecting the leftover herbs and cloth that I no longer needed. "It may be old in the ages of man and dwarf, but young still for elves."

They both seemed to instantly sober, though Kíli's pained expression took on another understanding of the age between us and how he might seem a child to me. I would have already seen more than two of his lifespans by now. I wanted to soothe him. I wanted to go to him and kiss away the furrow in his worried brow. Instead, I hastily put away the supplies as I had found them and walked towards Dwalin as he cleared his throat.

"I will go back to my cell if you show me the way."

"No! You can't seri-" Kíli began, struggling to sit up in his bed.

"Oh, quiet down laddie! " He bellowed to stop Kíli's fussing. He looked at me long and silent as if making up his mind as to whether he was going to lock me up and throw away the key or not. Arms still crossed, glare still firm on his face, I tried to embrace the feeling of steel in my spine. "Bofur told me you were in here tending to Kíli. Thought I'd come keep an eye on you."

"She doesn't need a keeper, Dwalin."

"Kíli, it's alright." I tried to at least demonstrate I was accepting of whatever position I was in, be it prisoner or otherwise. I also did not want a repeat of earlier, in the event Kíli in his lessened strength sought to protect me somehow.

"No! It's not alright. You've saved me more times than seems possible and they all have to see -"

Dwalin simply spoke over him again as Kíli was in no position to do much about it. "I'm not taking her back to the dungeon, so ye can untwist your trousers."

I did not want to question him in the event he change his mind, but it was such a drastic change I found myself asking why. Dwalin let out of huff of breath.

"The lad's awake, isn't he? Seems you may have had something to do with that." He wandered over to idly inspect the herbs on Óin's table, sniffing one of the jars and grimacing before shoving it away in disgust. "What in Mahal's name does he put in these things?"

I was still not sure what his true purpose was and as he wasted time looking at the bottles and store, I moved closer to Kíli's side. I felt his fingers brush mine and took strength from the contact. Finally he turned and though he squinted at Kíli's fast movement of his hand away from mine, he walked back towards us.

"I didn't come here to take ye back down, I came to see if I was wrong. I was."

I failed at masking my surprise based on the grimace on Dwalin's face and the hiss of breath he exhaled.

"What happened?" Kíli was oblivious to all except that I had been taken away that first night of my arrival. Though Nori had told him I seemed unwell, he did not know the extent or the reason.

"If you weren't busy trying to get your tongue down her throat she might have told ye."

I shook my head that I'd have not.

"All the same. I haven't been myself since Thorin…" He seemed to choke on the words. "Since Thorin fell. Didn't see it until now."

He paused as the grief struck him deeply again. If his loss was so great, I wondered at how Kíli would fare with it as the loss of his uncle and brother had yet to be discussed with him being unconscious for half our time together. I could see the memories flash in his eyes, though I knew them not. It was clear as daylight that this fierce soldier drew much of his strength from his passion for his friends and family.

"An elf in this mountain. He wouldn't like it," he half said to himself with a hint of humor. He sobered and sniffed back at what tears might have begun to form, returning his stern gaze to me. "I can see now with my own eyes you're helping. He woke up the first time when you got here. And again tonight because of you. So ye can't be wholly evil."

I felt as though this might be the closest I would ever get to hearing that he accepted me from such a fiercely stoic dwarf. What was not the most endearing of compliments to me, I knew was meant kindly from him.

"Trustin' an elf doesn't come easy."

"The histories between our people and the behavior of my king would provide much reason for distrust."

He nodded, pleased that I understood he may still withhold his trust but was at least of the mind that peace had to be brokered for the sake of his healing kin.

"I'm sorry, lass. Kíli. I can't take it back, but I hope you can forgive me."

"Grief can make even the strongest and wisest its servant." When Dwalin's eyes watered again at my words, I simply bowed my head in acceptance, noting that Kíli was watching curiously while fighting a resurgence of drowsiness.

"Well then." He cleared his throat and seemed to puff himself up to recover from his moment of feeling weak over his loss. He motioned to the plate of food he'd brought with him. It was heaped with breads and cheese, cake, meats, and a portion of salad and greens. "Wasn't quite sure what you might like or if he'd have woken yet. It's a bit of everything. Your folk in Rivendell had no meat," At this he grumbled. "So what's there is for him if you're not interested."

I smiled at him and for a moment I thought he might blush. "Thank you, Master Dwalin."

He bent slightly at the waist and bowed. "At your service."

With that, he left and I sat to slow my quickened heart. Kíli reached his hand out to me. "Come here. Tell me what happened since he's unlikely to."

I moved to sit beside him and took his hand in mind. "You are tired. I can see it."

"I've slept for 3 days."

I smiled at his wanting to stay awake and talk to me. I so wanted to be able to talk again and hear his stories as I once had while he was in the cell in Thranduil's halls. His recovery had to come first.

"You were unconscious. There is a difference, Kíli. Do not argue, rest."

"I won't let this go."

"I have witnessed enough of dwarves to know that is truth." I brushed his hair from his brow.

"Will you stay?"

"Yes."

"I'll dream of you." And with a smile he slept.


	17. Through the Night

A/N: Hello everyone! As always, thank you SO much for reading, commenting and sticking around for more of the story! Apparently I'm a bit of a space cadet and accidentally put my chapter 15 into the chapter 16 post! If you go back, you will find it corrected (FINALLY!). I apologise profusely for the delay as I hadn't seen the reviews or caught it myself. To make up for it, I'll be posting a few chapters in quicker succession over the next couple days! Again, I'm sorry for the mistake and that I did not catch this sooner. Thank you to those that let me know!

So, without further wait...

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 17**

Through the Night

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As he slept in the night, I checked the poultice. The streaking from his scar had gone, and the redness had faded. Even for athelas this was working faster than I expected, so although I wanted to refresh the paste it could wait until he woke. It was a worry that he had the appearance of a speedy recovery only to relapse, so I preferred to stay ahead of it now that I was being given the chance to watch over him. We would have to enforce more rest until his heart could handle more and we understood how well he truly was. Of course, his escapades had to end. For now.

Ori had come back after they finished supper to discuss athelas and its properties more, so I imparted what knowledge I could. I had to remind him that while most elves possessed some knowledge of healing, I was no trained healer and was limited in my experiences. I had perhaps done more healing since knowing the dwarves than I had in the previous hundred years.

"There are many great healers among our people, in particular Lord Elrond of Imladris. I have heard tales of his skills. He is one of the eldest of our race and has great power. It is said that he descends from Lúthien, whose healing powers were unique according to the stories I have heard."

"We met Lord Elrond!" Ori exclaimed, then quickly quieted again so as not to wake Kíli. "We were his guests in Rivendell for a short time. But I have not heard of Lúthien before."

"I have never met him. But how I would love to see Imladris."

"You have never been?"

"No. Until your company came upon our wood, I had not ventured too far beyond our borders but to cleanse orc or spiders from our lands." I did not tell him that part of the reason I had not been to Rivendell or to see any other lands was due to the very insular nature of our king.

He smiled and wrote more in his book. I turned my attention briefly to Kíli who groaned in a restless motion. I lay my hand on his brow to check his temperature and found it satisfactory. My touch seemed to sooth him quickly as he relaxed and returned to a deep restful sleep.

"Who was Lúthien?" Ori asked.

Turning back to him I smiled. "She was an elven woman who gave her immortal life for the love of the man Beren. It is a very long tale of love and loss and the grace of the Valar. I have only heard it a few times as a youngling so would not do it justice."

"Perhaps we might find it in our library."

"I would doubt it greatly, but perhaps if dwarves of ages past held the elves in greater favor than now. If ever you find yourself in Rivendell again, Lord Elrond would likely know of her story better than I."

We spoke long about how he found Rivendell and their hosts, the lack of meats, and the fresh bathing fountains. I could not help but laugh at the idea of a company of dwarves bathing in the fountains of the Last Homely House. His cheeks went pink with embarrassment as he was truly shocked to learn that the fountains were indeed not for bathing.

When it seemed he might be ready for sleep himself, he brought me a fresh basin of water for me to wash with and retired to whatever chambers the dwarves had eked out for themselves in their rehabilitation of the mountain. I soaked a cloth and began to wash my face and neck. I brushed through my hair with my fingers and rebraided it away from my face before returning to sit beside Kíli.

He turned in his sleep and proved Dwalin right as he murmured my name. My heart ached in pleasure at knowing I occupied his dreams and hopefully his heart. A feeling washed over me suddenly as I worried that this would not last for him, unsure if dwarves were like elves in their choosing of partners. I had known with the memories now beginning to flood through my mind that I was doomed to be bound to his fate. I only hoped his heart was not as fickle as that of men and would prove as devoted as the elven.

When Kíli's dreams turned dark and he became restless, I kneeled beside him and brushed away some of the strands of hair that fell loose upon his brow.

"It is just a dream." I whispered to him hoping it would reach him and calm what dread had found him in sleep.

He opened his eyes, still half asleep, and though his lips did not curve there was a light smile in his eyes. "You stayed."

"I said I would."

He reached for me. "Lay with me."

"Kíli!" I chastised him as I was somewhat shocked at his suggestion. No matter my connection to him and my wanting, it would be too imprudent. I felt the heat on the back of my neck at the idea. "We cannot. And you are still unwell."

"That is not what I meant, Tauriel." He chuckled softly. "Though I see what is on your mind clear enough. I merely want you beside me. I feel better, stronger with you here."

My heart shimmered inside me like molten gold as he gently pulled me to lay on the bed beside him. There was no part of me that could resist his soft plea for the comfort it seemed only I could provide. He tucked me against him and promptly fell back to sleep. Part of me wanted to laugh, as if he may have done all this believing it a dream. But I simply laid in his arms and thought of the many roads that led us here.

I lay still as Kíli wrapped around me in his sleep, my eyes un-closed as I rested my mind. Dream and night blended as the hours passed by, strength returning to us both. Knowing that Dwalin would not go far, I noticed in my walking between sleep and dream that he had indeed attempted to quietly pass by the doorway more than once, ensuring that the door remained open and that his kin was safe. I knew it was to keep an eye on me. He'd not be quick to trust me as he said himself. He may never truly trust me. But it was a start.

As morning approached, I could hear the movements of the dwarves begin their work for the day. From what it had appeared, there was still rebuilding to be done along with transferring the treasure hoard up to higher levels where eventually smiths and tinkerers could work at the gems and metal. Bofur had told me during my time in the dungeon that they were clearing out the debris and charred furniture from the great halls and galleries as well.

When I attempted to extricate myself from Kíli's grasp, his arms simply tightened as though I were his lifeline. I sighed and contemplated waking him even though I knew that his three days had not been restful and rest was something he needed still.

Dwalin, as I expected, was first to greet me that morning, though greeting would have been too friendly a term. There seemed to be what I could only describe as a growl forming deep in his throat as he glared viciously at me. With one free hand I tried to indicate that Kíli was asleep and again attempted to stand in demonstration that I had tried.

"Bloody elves," Dwalin huffed as he marched over to the bed. I stiffened slightly when he simply grabbed Kíli's arms and removed them from me with no preamble.

Kíli practically shot upright and out of bed in an amusing display of trying to fight whatever might have just attacked. He flailed for a moment in which I ducked nimbly out of the way and stood aside as Dwalin snagged his arms and shoved him down again.

"Well then." I cleared my throat. I stepped away to straighten my tunic and gather supplies to redress Kíli's chest. I ignored the grumbling between him and Dwalin and tried my best not to blush when he winked at me. "You must rest and drink plenty of liquid. We will need to redress this once more if it does not reduce in redness by tonight."

As I redressed the wound, Oin joined us and listened to Kíli's heart and lungs with his trumpet before looking at my work.

"The wonders of elvish medicine never end. Sounds much stronger and steadier. But I wonder if all are as gifted as you."

"You are too kind Master Oin. I am no gifted healer, but try where I can."

"I'd still like to know more of how you've brought him back to us yet again, time after time."

My brows knit together. "I wish I had an answer myself. But for your own practices, always keep a stock of athelas, or kingsfoil," I corrected. "It has endless uses and healing properties that even I do not know all of."

"Aye, but this isn't all the weeds doing."

"If you'd have listened, I could have told you." Ori joined us and decided he might finally have the evidence of what he'd attempted to have the dwarves tempt sooner.

"Not this again!" Dwalin had obviously heard enough of whatever Ori had been trying to tell them. He gently smacked Kíli on the shoulder, told him he was glad he was awake again and quickly left.

Oin simply grunted. "And I'm tellin ya, you're off your rocker! Come with me lass, we'll see what else you can tell me about your wondrous elvish herbs over breakfast. You could use some meat on those bones!"

I smiled apologetically towards Kíli as I was ushered by the older dwarf from the room.

"Ori," Kíli called to him, adjusting himself to sit more upright.

Thinking he was merely asking for help, Ori went over and started stuffing pillows behind him trying to make him more comfortable.

"Better?"

"Yes, but what were you talking about before?"

"Oh, nothing I suppose. No one thinks much of it." Ori fidgeted.

"Sit down. Tell me."

"You don't want to hear about it."

"Ori, I do. Tell me, please?" Kíli motioned to a nearby chair and waited patiently for him to make up his mind and finally sit down.

"Well, I just think that there's more to what happened with you because of Tauriel." Ori looked at his books.

Kíli combated the feeling of worry and curiosity with patience for Ori. Being younger brother to Fíli had definitely taught him how it felt to be the youngest and often considered less important. Kíli knew that Ori looked up to him as an older brother much as he had to Fíli, even if he thought it not wise considering how much trouble he constantly found himself in. How he missed and longed for his brother at his side. But now was not the time to sink into the ache of that loss.

"How?" Kíli prompted.

"I seem to be the only one who thinks it's not just a coincidence that you woke up when she got here! And then… then you got weaker when she was taken away! Then!" Ori flipped excitedly through his notes. "You were unconscious for 3 days and nights, each night you worsened until we brought her to you. And that's when you woke again."

Although the scent of athelas remained due to leaves steeping in water near Kíli's bedside to increase his strength, he felt fatigued trying to comprehend what connection was being drawn.

"Are you saying… I don't know what you're saying. What are you saying?"

Ori scooted his chair closer as if to reveal some secret mystery. "I think, somehow or another, your… fates or… something are tied together."

"What does that mean, Ori?" He was becoming anxious at the idea.

"I honestly don't know." Though a positive look of excitement still spread across Ori's face, he sighed and slumped in the chair again before shrugging. "Just, I've noticed."

"Hmm." Kíli stared off towards the door in thought. The promise he had made and what faded dreams and visions he thought he remembered from before he woke the first time swirled in his mind.

"I've found some books on elvish healing I want her to help me translate. I've only been able to make out a few things here and there."

"You should tell her what you think. She may know something you have not read in your books." He grew wistful and pained as another thought crossed his mind. "She may know a very great deal for the centuries she has seen and will see long after you and I are gone."

"She's said she doesn't know. But there must be more to elvish healing. Do you remember what it was like in Laketown? What happened when she healed you?"

"I… I remember warmth spreading through me as the pain eased. Chanting. She was chanting but I don't know what." He remembered thinking he was in a dream and she was lost to him. "Where my vision had gone dark and blurred I saw her bathed in light so clear, and warm, like the sun."

Ori was enthralled and scribbled away in his notebook. He was hoping to build upon the recorded knowledge of elvish healing while he had someone obviously talented in their skills within the mountain and within his reach. Her translations would help immensely.

"I remember staring, not knowing what I saw. I wanted to cry at her beauty. In honesty, Ori, I did not think her real. I believed it all a dream until later. I was half drunk on whatever spell she cast."

"Do you still feel that way?" There were so many reasons he wanted to know and not all of them because of his pursuit of knowledge. Yes, he wanted to know if the healing she had done then was like that which she had performed more recently. But Ori also asked for fear that the rest of the company who did not favor her as he had slowly been growing to would be right. There was magic and he was under a spell.

"A bit. But it is different. I want her beside me. I feel stronger and more alive. Tell me, Ori, can that be a spell? Do you think it is real?"

"I don't know, Kíli. She told me there was once an elf who gave her immortality for a man. I wonder if all elves can do this?"

Kíli became suddenly fearful that she might have given up her life for his and though it gave his heart hope for the love he held for her be returned, he would not wish she make such a sacrifice. He grasped Ori's wrist. "Find out what you can. I would not have her sacrifice herself for me."

Their eyes met, concerned, not knowing what the answers were or if they were even asking the right questions. The only question that kept replaying in Kíli's mind though was one he found himself asking so many weeks ago when his head rested on a pillow of walnuts. Could she truly love him?

As Kíli was about to voice the dread that began to weigh on him at the idea that he was alone in his feelings, Nori came in with a heaping plate of breakfast for the recovering dwarf.

"We've got just about everything to choose from!"

"Ah, Nori, thank you."

Nori handed him the plate and wandered the room for a moment before coming back with the intent of teasing his brother.

"Nori. You know more than most anything that goes on in this mountain."

"I do my best to." He winked while managing to look just the slightest bit chagrined.

"Do you know what happened to Tauriel?"

"What d'ya mean?"

"Dwalin came to apologize but neither tell me what happened."

"Don't know that it's my business."

"And that's stopped you when?"

The chagrin reappeared. "True."

"I don't know that either will tell me what passed between them, so will you?"

Nori shuffled his feet a bit and seemed to think on what he might share, not wanting to throw Dwalin to the wolves but really not wanting to be anything but as impartial as he could. "I didn't see everything. I was nipping down to the dungeons to check on this little bit of… well… I… anyway. I came past the dungeon when he was shouting and it seemed like he might have had her by the throat threatening you'd wake if he got rid of her."

Kíli felt a burning fury within him start to rise to the surface that he had only felt once before and was forcing himself not to face. He'd only been this enraged after watching his brother fall from the heights of Ravenhill. He swore to himself no hand would ever touch her in anger again and he'd spend the rest of his time in Arda defending the elf that had imprinted herself so strongly on his heart.

It was then that a horn sounded in the mountain a few moments before the object of his affection came in hot on Óin's heels.

"We might have a wee bit of a problem," Óin announced. "Dain's returned."


	18. The Ironfoot Return

AN: Another chapter! Yay! Thank you so much for the kind comments and everyone who has now added this story to their favourites and followed! So happy to have you along with us 3

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 18**

The Ironfoot Return

* * *

A large procession of battle boars descended upon the mountain with Dain leading the way. Wagons followed behind with more Ironfoot marching at the rear of the caravan that had travelled back to Erebor from the Iron Hills. Dain had brought with him many skilled craftsmen to help any repair and rebuilding efforts, supplies until trade could be properly established with their neighbors, and a handful of dwarrowdams that were accompanying his wife. Many of those that made up the caravan had once called the Lonely Mountain their home before the Sack of Erebor when Smaug drove them from the city.

The horn sounded in the mountain announcing the return of the king. He had left many men in the mountain to begin the process of clearing out that stench of dragon and making their halls presentable and livable again. They were greeted at the gates, the boars led to stables, and wagons unloaded. Those that were returning after so many years in exile stood agape as they crossed the threshold onto the winding paved road that led into the long abandoned city. Many had never seen the halls of Erebor and only heard stories of the treasure and its grandness in the capital city of Durin's Folk.

As Dain and his entourage passed through the echoing halls to the throne room, most of Thorin's company waited to greet him. They all bowed their heads to him as he entered and stopped before Balin, the long trusted advisor to Thorin on his quest and in his exile.

"I know custom called for sooner, but I'd not have seen it done til I returned. Show me to my kin and we can get this dark business behind us."

Balin understood. Really, they all had understood that custom would wait for kin when the loss was so great.

"Eh, there's something we need to discuss." Balin knew that the sooner their unusual guest was addressed the better. If he was able to ease the capricious Ironfoot before any accidental appearances of the elf, all the better for everyone.

Dain simply shrugged off his heavy travelling coat and tossed it aside. It landed at Bifur's feet who just looked at it, cocked an eyebrow, and side stepped away.

"How about we discuss all ye want, after I've seen my fallen cousins!?" Dain boomed.

Knowing the unpredictable nature of Dain well enough, Balin put it aside for the moment. He led Dain and the entourage further into the mountain and down to the chamber where Thorin and Fíli would be entombed.

Many of the dwarves that had accompanied Dain had known Thorin in the days of Erebor before Smaug descended upon them. There were many that had fled to the Iron Hills that he had known would want to pay their respects, and so the official ceremonies had waited for their arrival. He'd not delay anymore as it was already well beyond their standard expectations.

"We'll bury them at dawn," he announced. "What of my other cousin?"

Balin approached him again. "That's what I wanted to discuss with you."

"Well let's have it then!"

"It was touch and go and you know he was unconscious since we brought him down from Ravenhill. He woke just a week ago and isn't quite fully recovered. He's most definitely not ready, but he's alive."

Dain slapped Balin on the back in cheer even if a part of him was dubious of his cousin's health and insisted they go see him at once. He strode through the mountain corridors and hopped down the stairwells quickly as dwarves made way for the rushing king. Balin and the company followed behind and several tumbled into each other when he stopped short at the threshold of Kíli's healing room. He ignored the grumbling as they righted themselves and went to his cousin.

"Well aren't you a sight, laddie! Thought you were headed for the grave when I left."

Kíli's face was schooled into a slightly grinning grimace as he began to sit up straighter and made as if to get out of bed. "Cousin -"

"Oh no, don't ye even think of it!" Dain slapped him on the shoulder and laughed, taking a seat on the chair beside his bed. He grew solemn and serious as he looked him over, the compress wrapped neatly around his chest under an open shirt, pillows and blankets around him to keep him from too much movement in his sleep. "I'm sorry about Thorin and yer brother. Either of them should be wearin' the crown on their heads. At least we can be glad they are feasting with their fathers and Mahal!"

Kíli felt a slight pang of guilt that he really had not grieved as he should. He knew that he was not returned to his full strength yet and his mind still lingered on his own experience with Mahal and the dreams that filled his sleep. He was still burying the anger he felt and knew when grief came for him, it would sink claws in his heart and he wasn't strong enough or ready to face the realization that he would live the rest of his life without his uncle, and worse, without his brother. The reality, he knew, would take hold when forced to face their tombs. It was easier to focus on other things.

"How was your journey to the hills, cousin?"

"Easy enough. Brought back enough to feast for a week in your uncle's honor! And speaking of feasts, I know some lasses come back with me that might catch your eye and snag your arm for a dance once you're on your feet." Dain laughed and punched him in the arm, not noticing the looks exchanged between the dwarves around them. "Get yer rest laddie, so we can finally feast and honor our fallen brothers right and proper! Then there's lots of business to attend to."

Kíli spared a glance for his comrades behind Dain, but kept his face as neutral as he could and hoped none would give up the facade. "I look forward to it! And the dams 'll be a nice change of scene than this lot!"

Dain laughed heartily as the company exchanged looks unnoticed.

"But what about-" Bombur began to say before Bofur promptly elbowed him.

"Hmm?" Dain turned and crooked an eyebrow as Bombur grasped his side and coughed.

"You alright there, Bombur?" Bofur slapped him heartily on the back and smiled.

Dwalin eyed the brothers suspiciously but having an inclination of what they were murmuring about, stepped forward. "We should let the lad rest and discuss the city watch now that you've returned."

"Aye, we shall." Dain stood. "We'll give the folk that joined me tonight to get settled and tomorrow we pay honor to our fallen and feast! Best find your feet before then, my lad! I reckon there will plenty wanting your attentions!"

The king led the way out of the room with Dwalin, Gloin, and Balin in his wake, with Dori following shortly behind. Kíli let out a massive sigh and slumped back down on the bed. He looked at the three brothers who still stood staring at him. Oin had remained inconspicuously quiet and occupied with his tinctures. Bofur took out his pipe and packed it thoughtfully. Bombur was the first to break the silence.

"What the bloody hell was that for!?"

Bofur simply gaped and nearly thought about elbowing him again for the hell of it. "Really now. Ya don't happen to think that Dain might be none too pleased to find our elven friend wandering free as she likes under the mountain? By all means, Bombur, do go and break the news to him. I'm sure that will go over just grand with our new king."

Bifur let out a loud guffaw, seeming to surprise even himself before turning and wandering out of the room. Kíli just shook his head.

"So Kíli," Bofur began with a mischievous grin forming.

"Hmm?" Kíli stretched and then slid further down in the bed, fidgeting and poking leisurely at the blankets and pillows on the bed beside him, avoiding eye contact with Bofur as he stepped a bit closer.

"Where is the lovely long legged lass of yours?"

Kíli shrugged as he continued to play with and poke at the bedding. Bofur made a face at the fidgeting gesture to show he in no way believed the lad didn't know where she was at any given moment. Nori simply chuckled and stared at the ceiling.

"Right. Where is she?"

"Really, Bofur. I've no idea. OW-" Kíli jumped slightly in his bed, stopping Bofur in his tracks and gaining Oin's attention thinking Kíli might have done something to himself.

"What in Mahal's name …"

"Just a spasm! I'm fine, really, just fine. Awfully tired though. Could use some more sleep," he yawned.

Bofur squinted with a twinkle in his eye and a strong suspicion. He nodded and puffed on his pipe.

"Bombur, what do ya say to some breakfast?" He shook his head in good humor with himself. "What am I thinking. Oin! Breakfast! Come on, Dori."

They all made tracks to the door and as he was the last to leave, Bofur turned back to Kíli and winked.

"Good morning, Tauriel. I'll bring you both a plate."

"Thank you Bofur," came the muffled reply from beneath the pile of pillows.

When he left and closed the door behind him, Kíli flung back the sheets and pushed the pillows to the edge of the bed.

"And just what did I do to deserve that?" He pouted as he rubbed the spot on his thigh where I had pinched due to him poking at me through the pillows.

I squinted at him as I sat up and straightened my tunic. My hair was a bit of a mess around me so I brushed it away from my face and tried to unknot it where I could. "You know precisely."

"Oh, you know I was jesting about the dams, Tauriel!"

I pretended to be affronted and softly rose to climb over and out of the bed. "If you would entertain the thought while hiding a woman with sharp blades beneath your sheets… then you truly are reckless."

He rolled his eyes when I laughed again. As I kneeled and began to stand over him and off the bed, he quickly shot an arm up and around my waist and unbalanced me onto my back, levering himself slightly over me. I tried to calm my heart as it betrayed me with its sudden racing.

"And if I am?"

"Then you should learn to be more wary of your prey," I began. Before he could inquire as to my meaning, in a blink my dagger's edge pressed lightly against his throat. A flicker of shock came upon his face before I reversed our positions and hovered over him, his hands raised in surrender. "Lest you be the prey."

It was no longer shock that I saw in his eyes but desire. His hand timidly moved towards me and I squinted threateningly at him, maintaining the position of my blade. I saw the warring wariness with desire in his eyes and tried to hide my own. But when his hand grasped the back of my neck and fisted in my hair, I allowed my blade to fall aside as he brought me to him and crushed his mouth to mine. I went along for the ride until I became desperate for air, the heat pumping off of him overwhelming me.

"You have no idea how I want you, amrâlimê," he groaned as I pulled back.

"Kíli," I laughed and moved so that I sat beside him instead of straddling him. "I believe if nothing else, your desire is clear to more than me. Please be careful. It is obvious that this is not the time for recklessness."

"You're one to talk."

I blushed, knowing he was right that my recklessness had also led me here. He sat upright and brushed his fingers through my hair, catching in a tangle I had not finished working out.

"Turn around," he instructed.

When I tilted my head questioning why, he simply grabbed my shoulders and rotated me himself. He gently worked his fingers through my hair from the bottom up to untangle what knots were left due to being unceremoniously smothered beside him at Dain's sudden arrival. I closed my eyes, absorbing the feeling of someone else working through my hair. I could not remember the last time, if there was one, that I had someone else pay such attention. As a child I had been taught some braiding skills when I was brought to the Woodland Realm as an orphan. I did not remember my parents or my heritage, but knew that I did not completely belong with the elves of Mirkwood. I consistently fumbled at their style of braiding, left to manage and form my own.

"You haven't told me what happened yet. With Dwalin," he said quietly.

I sighed as Kíli's fingers moved deftly and attentively across my scalp as he pulled strands into braids similar to those he had seen me wearing many times.

"He thought that I might know more of your state than I would say. And when you collapsed, I fear he was not himself when he came again to question me."

I felt his fingers pause and tense in my hair. "There is more. Nori said he saw him lay hands on you. Did he harm you?"

It felt as though I had a very thin line to walk. I knew full well that Dwalin had not been in his right mind. Also, how could I know if the knowledge of what was said and how I had been treated would lead to more anger or violence. I took pause as he continued to weave plaits into my hair, pulling it away from my neck and running his fingers along my skin. I shivered.

"Little will harm an elf. We heal easily and quickly. You can see for yourself I have no marks. Do not worry, Kíli."

He left the majority of my hair cascading free from an intricate woven set of braids that formed a ring around my head. He had woven it neatly so as to keep the most troublesome loose strands out of my face. I couldn't help but smile that he knew the loose hairs were a hindrance to a bow and to my fighting style.

"There. Done."

I ran my hands across the braids, in awe of the intricate detail that I could never have managed. "Thank you."

Turning to face him, I laid a kiss upon his brow before rising to wash my face in the nearby basin. As I dried my skin, I glanced over my shoulder at him.

"You cannot hide me in your bedsheets every time your king comes along."

"Can I hide you in my bedsheets otherwise?" He grinned wickedly and I merely cocked an eyebrow and scoffed at him. "No, I suppose I cannot. In any case, I do not want to hide you. I would have you beside me at the feast. You will scare off any dam that dare approach me and want to dance."

When his groaning over the idea of dancing failed to amuse me as he had hoped, he changed tactics once more. "Tauriel, you warm me. I feel your absence even if you are as close or far as the library. Do not be angry with me that I would like to avoid the politics of dealing with Dain and his entourage."

I returned to check his wound and listen to his heart and sighed. "I am not angry at you, Kíli. But we need to be wary."

It was then that Ori entered carrying a large pile of books and nudged the door shut after him. He beamed pleasantly.

"Some light reading. Thought you'd like company while you have breakfast."

"I'm starved!" Kíli stood slowly with greater ease than he expected.

Deciding that utilizing his energy when he felt it might strengthen him and build back his stamina, I insisted Kíli eat at the table after I nudged it slightly further away to the other wall. He nearly gaped.

"You're wicked."

"I can tell you're gaining strength again and we should take advantage."

"I'd rather you take advantage in other ways." He grumbled, but moved slowly across the room to the table. I chose to ignore his quip as if I hadn't heard.

When Óin returned along with Balin and Bofur all carrying their own heaping plates, I listened as they discussed what approach would be best for convincing the unpredictable Dain to accept an elf as a guest under the mountain.


	19. Facing Doubts

AN: Thank you to everyone for the lovely comments and all the new followers!

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 19**

Facing Doubts

* * *

Long through the day, the paved stone paths and stairwells were bustling with dwarrows preparing for the feast that would take place in the Great Chamber the following day. Having an elf wandering around would not be easily overlooked without word getting back to Dain, and so leaving the healing chamber was no longer an option. It would be a bit of a surprise if he hadn't heard at least whispers or rumors already since some of his dwarves from the Iron Hills had stayed behind and been in the mountain since my arrival. I was not thrilled at the idea of being snuck around or having to leave the mountain, so my mood suffered but for Kíli's attempts at forcing smiles and laughs from me when he could.

Only Óin seemed to grumble about my constant presence, as once or twice he thought I was judging his work. In truth, I had been deep in thought and not listening or watching anything he was doing. Kíli wanted to work harder and faster than either Óin or I would allow out of worry for his heart. He felt strong which was a good sign that more of the infection that lingered was being drawn out.

I was grateful when Ori came with yet more books in the later part of the day to request my help on his translations. The distraction was also helpful in keeping Kíli at bay. My being occupied meant that he had to exercise or rest or converse with his friends and kin.

While he seemed to have no qualms in his affections being witnessed, it was not something I was used to. Even elves who had paired and married were not public in their displays. It seemed to dishearten Kíli, but I felt my place among his people was still precarious enough to warrant the discretion. I kept myself buried in the books Ori had brought to me and ignored as many ploys for attention that I could, though it brought upon me a somber uneasiness to do so.

I trained my eyes to the task at hand, but my ears picked up on the sounds and conversations, and I could practically feel the mood of the room closing in around me. I felt waves of confused temper rolling towards me and knew precisely where it came from.

Balin was trying to no avail to convince Kíli that confronting Dain before he was fully recovered would not go well. Dain founded much of his respect for Thorin on his battle prowess and strength and leadership. Kili would never manage to gain the respect enough to be heard by the king unless he was strong enough for combat. His age was of no help either. Balin knew that was how Dain had long resolved internal conflicts among his people and why his rulings or opinions were rarely questioned and overthrown. Few would or could best him in hand to hand.

Though Kili seemed unconvinced, I could feel his mood shift from pride to worry to almost defeat. The longer I transcribed and considered the path I found myself on, the less convinced of my place I was, and the stronger I felt a similar uncertainty and anger vibrating off the dwarf I had walked this path for. I imagined that his thoughts would mirror mine, though I knew he would lean towards fighting with anger rather than the disheartening dread that crept upon me.

I couldn't help my misgivings. Every turn thus far seemed to bring new risk even if somehow overcome. I would live until the end of days and his life was fleeting. Thranduil had warned me out of spite even if his words were true. Would Kili fight for me and disobey any orders of his King and kin as I had? Perhaps all had been a mistake and Kíli's infatuation would diminish when obstacles became too great.

Trying to shake myself out of the melancholy, I devoted my focus wholeheartedly to the texts that Ori had found. They held what to me was common knowledge on some of the herbs and salves the elves of my region used most. Anecdotal evidence accompanied each along with the words I had occasionally heard healers chanting over different injuries or maladies. The elves did not require a great deal of healing for themselves, especially for illness, so many were focused on the healing of men and dwarves.

I was troubled by the torn missing pages that I hoped would have shed more light on the use of elvish medicine on dwarves. I knew the answers to Kíli's condition would not be found in a single tome in a buried dwarven library, but still I hoped. Perhaps the return of Dain would provide a reason for me to travel west for answers from Lord Elrond. If anyone might possess the knowledge of how all had come to pass, it was one of the wisest of my people. Should Kíli's condition not continue to improve it would also afford an opportunity for one of the most skilled healers in Arda to have input.

Hours crawled by with the comings and goings of the company I recognized. They came with updates on Dain's plans for the burial and feast, with clothing for Kíli, and eventually to bring yet another meal. I was amazed at how much the dwarves ate and drank, even if great amounts of food were likely to end up thrown at each other and on the floor.

I kept to myself as they partook in a festive attempt to ward off the sadness that the next morning would bring. The mood and pervasive silence between myself and the others seemed apparent to all when dinner for the small group of us in the healing hall was fraught with questioning side glances and unanswered glares. I saw frustrated gesturing between Kíli and Bofur out of the corner of my eye, but tried to remain indifferent in appearance. I did not understand the unspoken words in their gestures, so gave up on trying.

Kíli took a very short supervised walk after supper to my dismay. Some of the others brought in additional blankets for me to sleep with on a makeshift cot. Again, I saw the frustration on Kíli's face and knew that my heart mirrored his feelings whether I displayed them or not. I began to wonder if it would be better for all if I left the mountain and allow their lives to progress as it should have without an elf in their midst.

Careful not to make eye contact, I watched from my position at the table as Óin listened again to Kíli's heart and lungs and removed the poultice to check the wound. I stole a glance when neither were watching to see that the wound had indeed closed and even the scar had diminished. Óin smoothed a small amount of ointment across it and left it to breathe. He knocked his forehead to Kíli's before leaving for the night.

Bofur came in shortly before his watch at the gate to bring me pillows that had been forgotten. He smiled at me and I simply bowed my head. At the turn of his expression, I knew I must have been poorly masking my feelings. I could tell he wanted to inquire what ailed me so, but he simply patted my shoulder and went over to Kíli.

I'd become lost in thought and only registered heated whispers across the room but no words or their meaning. My focus broke as dread had built and my mental restlessness gave way to pacing. Who knew what dangers we might face if Dain discovered me? Ori was right that Kili fared better with my presence and was healing at a much more rapid rate when I stayed close by. I had to admit that even my own energy seemed to recover. But once he regained his health I did not know what place I would find here. Leaving while they feasted might be best for all.

When I turned again towards the door in my internal debate, I nearly crashed into Kíli as he stood fuming in front of me. It was then I noticed we were alone, though I imagined Dwalin and Bofur were just beyond the doorway. I schooled my face to a level of calmness that I did not feel as I stepped back a foot.

I could tell that he wanted to reach out to me as he took a half step forward and I saw his hands flex. Frustration was rolling off of him like steam.

"Enough, Tauriel. This will not do."

"Balin is right, Kili. You cannot confront Dain as you might have Thorin Oakenshield."

He paled ever so slightly at my mention of his uncle and I immediately regretted it.

"So you have an opinion, I see? You could have fooled the rest of us," he snapped.

"I fear this is not my place and I know little the ways of dwarves."

Kíli took my path of pacing before me, obviously seething. Whether he realized it or not, it did not escape my notice that his stamina was greatly improved even over the course of the day. When he turned to face me he seemed resolved in his own mind and with every intention of forcing the world to follow suit.

"I will not have you hidden away a secret or imprisoned in our dungeons for all you have done to save me and my kin! I assure you of this."

"Do you not see that you may not be given that choice?"

"Then I will stand against anyone! Even the king! Let the boar riding buffoon try what he like. I'll show him a son of Durin does not give in without a fight."

I implored him to see that we could not trust the return of his strength. He had improved before only to relapse and I could not bear the thought. "Kili, you are not fully recovered even if improved. You cannot think to fight him or your people."

"I have heard enough of being told how I feel and how I am and whether or not I can walk or fight. Is the wound not closed and healed?"

Utterly incensed, he pulled open his shirt as he stepped towards me. I retreated another step, but he grabbed my wrist pulling me back towards him and placed my hand to his chest where the scar had faded to a wide pink line stretching across his heart. Again, it had healed faster than I had expected or hoped. I tentatively ran my thumb across the mark.

"Does my heart not beat stronger than before?" he begged of me in frustration.

It was true that his heart was no longer beating with the faint stutter it had when he first awoke. In fact, it felt as though it thrummed against my palm in harmony and keeping rhythm with my own pulse, matching beat for beat. I shook my head in wonder and disbelief, thinking it my imagination.

"I can feel you, Tauriel. I cannot tell you how or why, but I can feel you. Your thoughts, your feelings." His grip on my wrist changed and I knew he held the point of my pulse under his fingers, feeling the same rhythm that I did. His other hand brushed my waist.

I could not bring myself to look in his eyes and focused on the steady rise and fall of his chest, the strong beat of his heart under my hand that echoed within my own veins. I shook my head and tried to put distance between us once more, still afraid of what possible future and obstacles lay before us.

"Do not pull away. I have to bury my uncle. My brother," he choked on the words and I felt my own breath constrict. "Do not make me do this alone when you have woven yourself into the very fabric of my being."

"There are so many differences between us. We are worlds apart. And your people, your king may never allow me to remain here." He kept hold of my wrist even as my thumb traced the fading scar across the center of his chest.

"Then I will leave this mountain behind."

Though I dared hope our leaving together might mean a future for us, I felt sorrow for both of us that we would both be forced to leave our homes.

"Kíli, no. They are your people."

"Did you not leave yours? Am I not equal to you or able to stand for what I believe as you can? Why should you be the one to sacrifice all for the both of us?"

I shook my head and sighed. He was right. I had taken on all that I could to spare him suffering and even death.

"I cannot come with you tomorrow."

He sighed and stepped towards me. I could no longer retreat as my heart was not in it. His knuckles brushed along my cheek.

"Promise me you will not leave, and we will find a way."

He leaned close to me and touched his forehead to mine. I looked in his eyes and tried my best to believe him. At least I knew that for now, we would face it together. I could only hope it would remain that way.

I thought of tomorrow as I watched Kíli sleep. I longed again for the night sky and thought perhaps the burial and feast would afford me the opportunity. I was resting my eyes when Dwalin came in to make sure I was comfortable, rather than pace the hall on the other side of the door. He eyed the young Durin before turning to me.

"He sleeps better with you here."

I smiled softly and looked to Kíli's sleeping form. "Óin told me he was fevered and restless when I was not."

"You say you are not a talented healer, but all evidence to the contrary."

"I don't know that it is my work that has revived him."

He settled into a chair across the table from me and turned one of the books I had been reading to face him. He flipped through the pages and grimaced before pushing it back towards me.

"Tomorrow will not go easy on him."

I turned to face him and thought again on what Bofur had shared on the ramparts. Kíli was not the only one burying a brother tomorrow, even if his was by blood. Dwalin faced a similar heartbreak.

"Nor for any of you."

A part of me wanted to reach for his hand and attempt to ease his distress and mistrust, but instead I reached for the pitcher of ale that was left after dinner and poured Dwalin a large tankard.

"I do not clearly remember the loss of my parents as I was a mere child. Thranduil took me in as his own and I fought hard to gain my rank as Captain of his guard. Legolas was the closest to a brother I might ever have known. So I cannot claim to truly know the loss of family or how it might feel." I glanced again to Kíli as he turned in his sleep and sighed. "But I believe I have felt loss that I thought I would never recover from."

Dwalin followed my gaze before he looked to me again and shook his head. "You're not what I'd have expected for an elf."

"Is that a compliment, Master Dwalin? Or should I take offense?"

He chuckled deeply and genuinely before draining the ale.

"In truth, none of you are as I expected to find dwarves for all the tales told in our halls. You are more kind and honorable. Though I believe your stubbornness has been understated."

He laughed again and smiled at me. "Aye. Stubborn and proud, but the mettle to back it."

For a moment we both simply watched Kíli as he slept.

"I know you've a mind to leave." Dwalin poured more ale and passed me the mug. "I think that'd be a mistake."

Of all the dwarves to be in my corner, Dwalin was the least likely ally I expected to find. I watched him curiously and accepted the ale though it was not something my pallette preferred.

"I think it'd break the lad to lose you, and in truth, you're at least a good distraction. You may be the only reason he hasn't broke over his brother. Attached at the hip they were."

"Though my time to see such was brief, I remember it clearly."

"Dain may be a bit less reasonable than his cousin, but he's wise and fair. He'll see reason one way or another. Most of the company are behind you staying at least for the sake of this one. "

"You surprise me, Master Dwalin."

"I'm not blind. I may not have a great care or trust for elves, but if you care as much as you seem to lass, I can learn to live with ye."


	20. A Late Arrival

AN: Thank you as always to everyone for your comments and all the new followers! I'm thrilled that so many are enjoying this story so far! I must apologise profusely for the delayed posting of this chapter. Life is kicking my butt right now so unfortunately this story has taken a back seat. Fear not - I have ZERO intention of abandoning it, but my updates are sadly going to be more sparse for the next month or two before I hope to increase frequency! Thank you so so much for your patience and sticking with me here!

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 20**

A Late Arrival

* * *

Kíli wandered slowly in a daze, the company following close behind as they made their way out of the healing halls and towards the burial chambers. He felt uneasy about leaving Tauriel behind but it would have been impossible to not drawn attention with how busy the mountain had become. There were dwarrow rushing along the streets and paths with final preparations for the feast, and several times the group had to step aside when large barrels of ale were rolled by. Bombur, remembering too well his bouncy ride in one in the weeks before the battle, stepped well away as best he could. He couldn't quite look at a barrel the same way. He groaned with the memory of the spinning.

"Makes me thirsty," Glóin smirked.

"Aye, me too!" Bofur laughed.

Detouring towards the main gate as Kíli was desperate for a bit of fresh air, they heard the call of a familiar horn in the distance. They all turned to see a convoy of dwarrow flying a banner of a hammer and anvil crested by 7 stars in rich blues and silver inlay.

"By my beard…" Dwalin muttered and ran his hand over his scalp while he stared at the procession.

Balin patted his brother's shoulder and chuckling, smiled to himself.

"Well, come on now lads, let's go greet the princess."

Dwalin used Kíli's slow movement as an excuse to take his time approaching the arriving group. The rest had cheerfully gone forward to greet relations and friends that had made the journey east from Ered Luin. Several young dwarrow piled out of one of the carts and ran up the road to knock into Bombur's belly. The smallest of them merely bounced off him and onto his backside as Bombur gathered the rest of his brood for a giant hug.

"I nearly forgot there were so many of them," Kíli said in astonishment as several more came bounding up to the rotund dwarf.

"14 all in all."

But Dwalin was too distracted to comment any further as his attention was stolen by another dwarf in the traveling party. When she pushed back the hood of her sky-blue, silver lined traveling cloak, Dwalin stopped short and took a deep breath. Her hair was dark and cascaded in long curls over her shoulders, touched in places with white much like her brother's. She had the slightest shading of hair down the side of her face and along her chin, but it was soft and faint compared to the thick bristle of Thorin's that had covered his face. Kíli came to a halt beside him.

"Are you alright, Dwalin?"

The stern warrior cleared his throat and intentionally tried to deepen his reply, glaring at the recovering invalid beside him. "Why wouldn't I be!? I'm not the sick one, am I?"

"I just -"

"Come on."

With that, Dwalin gave Kíli a not so gentle shove forwards so he was forced to march more purposefully towards the gathered dwarves engaged in reunion. A smile was clear on the dwarrowdam's face as she greeted the company that approached and watched Bombur greet his wife and children with enthusiasm, but it faltered the moment she caught sight of her youngest son.

She had known that this journey would be full of torment and heartbreak and so had tried her best to keep hope from rising too strong within her. Seeing Kíli approach nearly did her in.

Balin had sent a raven to Ered Luin in the weeks prior to let her know of the fate of her brother and sons. He had been careful to prepare her for the worst should Kíli not recover from his wounds, and so she had steeled herself for the loss of all her family while she hastily packed and prepared for the long journey east. Home.

Though she was merely 10 years of age and practically an infant in the way of dwarves when Smaug sacked the city, Dís had some small memories of their eastern home under the mountain. Having spent all the years in exile with her brother and kin in the west, she had long understood Thorin's need to reclaim what was theirs. Even if it had driven a divide between them when her sons insisted on joining him. When she tried to convince him they were too young, too inexperienced, and too wild. They had years to grow before being thrust into a battle with a dragon and Mahal knew what else on the way.

Successful or otherwise it had been a fool's quest that she feared would claim those she loved. Bitterly, she was angry she could not tell him that she had been right. The quest had stolen her eldest, wounded her younger near to death, and stolen the rightful king of her people. Her brother. Fierce and loyal and stubborn. No amount of bravery could overcome the stubborn vengeful streak that had grown in the final years in exile before he ventured out to kill a dragon.

She'd have been furious with him if she wasn't so grieved by the loss. But seeing her son not only awake and walking towards her rekindled the flame of hope she had tried to bank within herself. It was a wonder she did not weep though it would have embarrassed her greatly in the company of her brothers men and warriors. Her brother had taught her a very great deal and so she held fast to the ideal of pride and rank while still valuing all. Respect and strength were valued, not weakness. Even in a dam.

"Amâd," Kíli said as he approached.

"My son!" She left the group behind and ran the last few strides to him. Unsure of his strength, she laid her forehead to his more gently than she might have otherwise before embracing him tightly. Tears had gathered and she willfully beat them back. When she leaned away, she ran her hand over the stubble on his chin and tsked at him. "Still so short. Ah, but you are here and whole!"

He grunted as she drew him down to embrace him again. "Still a bit rough around the edges, but mostly."

She inhaled his scent, reminding her of both her sons, and clung tightly, treasuring that she could hold either of them again. "If only I could see you with a proper beard and braids rather than this unkempt mess you insist on! You never let me tame it and never care for it yourself."

"You know it gets caught in my bow, amâd!"

"Hmph. If only I could have kept you home for how I've missed my reckless lad."

He chuckled and sighed, relieved that he had yet see his mother cry. "You'd have me in your pocket if you could."

She stepped back and glared at him. "And what of it!? I've every right to want my sons safe."

As if they both caught her mention of his brother, they sobered in their near playful banter and straightened. So much was said between them in their eyes, the depth of sorrow each held for brother, for son. Catching the sudden break and tension in their reunion, Dwalin came forward and bowed his head.

"Princess."

"Oh cut that out, Dwalin. You're practically family, and brother to me!"

She reached over to his shoulders and knocked foreheads with him, causing an immediate blush to rise on his neck that only Balin and Kíli were close enough to notice. Kíli looked with confusion towards the warrior's brother who was chuckling quietly to himself before interrupting their brief greeting.

"You've arrived a bit later than you'd hoped, so there isn't much time to really settle you in beforehand," Balin said to Dís as his brother recovered. "I'm sorry there's not more time for you to spend with them. Dain already felt we had waited long past."

Solemnly, Dís nodded. "Seeing them at all is more than I might have hoped. As for Dain… I'm sure he'd like to fit the crown upon his head that much faster as well. He forgets it isn't his for the taking."

He led her in through the gates with Dwalin and Kíli following, Glóin pointing out the structures and telling some of their journey's grander tales to his son, and Bombur and his brood following behind with the rest of the company and the other returning dwarrows.

Dís nodded to Balin as they discussed arrangements for where she might settle and what she could do to help the rebuilding of their capital city. Kíli squinted at Dwalin.

"What was that about?"

"Hmm?" Dwalin kept his eyes forward on his brother and the princess as they resumed their walk towards the burial chamber. He was still distracted, and though the flush had receded, he still itched beneath his collar. Looking in her eyes was like looking into Thorin's. He felt all his loyalty and failure all at once. But there was more if he admitted it. Which he didn't. He wouldn't.

"Dwalin, why is the crown not Dain's?"

His forehead and brow crinkled at the question. "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough, lad. Nothing to think about just yet or my brother would've told us."

Kíli wasn't so sure he believed as much, but let it go as everyone grew quiet upon approaching the doors to the funeral chamber. This would be the last time he would lay eyes upon his beloved uncle and brother before they were entombed forever in stone beneath the mountain. He wished for the strength and compassion a particular elf might lend him at his side.


	21. Burying the Fallen

AN: Thank you as always to everyone for your comments and all the new followers! I'm thrilled that so many are enjoying this story so far! I apologise profusely for the delay, as I continue to have a lot of work and personal things going on that sadly take away some of the time I'd prefer to dedicate to this story. Thanks for sticking with me!

* * *

 **Of Stars and Stone**

 **Chapter 21**

Burying the Fallen

* * *

The light from a thousand torches filled the cavernous spaces leading to where Thorin and Fíli were laid before entombment. All the dwarves that had returned to the mountain since the battle stood by as the company of eleven and Dís passed one last time by their fallen kin, with the princess slowly leading the way. Dwalin and Bofur stood beside Kíli as the last of their party to traverse the platform.

He swallowed audibly as he approached Thorin's tomb and closed his eyes to steel himself as best he could at seeing his proud and fierce uncle cold and gone from the world. Though not the memory he would choose to relive in days to come, his last of Thorin was in the meeting of their eyes as his brother was thrown from the ledge of Ravenhill. An understanding that they would fight to the death if they had to. Together.

Now, he felt like a traitor that he lived when his uncle, the strongest of them all, had fallen. How could he possibly face the future knowing that of the sons of the Durins, the weakest was allowed to remain. Hadn't he always been just that? He would give all to go back and mind his uncle and brother better, be better.

Dwalin simply stared in disbelief much as he had in the weeks prior. Each moment his eyes passed over Thorin's form, he prayed to Mahal that he might wake as Kíli had. He imagined him roaring to life and wildly swinging his sword as if still waging war. But each time he found himself beside his fallen brother the room was silent, and Thorin's eyes remained cold and closed.

Bofur grasped both Kíli and Dwalin's shoulders, squeezing them in compassion. His elation at Kíli's waking had eventually helped bank the tears he had spent in the weeks after the battle.

Kíli sniffed, refusing to acknowledge the tears that were building and let Bofur gently guide him on past his uncle. He began to tremble and feared his legs would take him no further as he saw the golden crown of hair before him.

"Fí…" he whispered as he shook his head and his eyes filled.

As he approached, he grasped the edge of the stone on which his brother lay to hold himself up, his knuckles going white. Had he registered that Bofur and Dwalin stood beside him, he might have been grateful. As it was, all he could see was his brother and a darkness that isolated and surrounded them both. All he could feel was cold.

 _How could you leave me behind? We were supposed to go together, brother. Years from now._

No amount of preparation or cleaning had hidden the bruising and there was the tiniest remnant of blood from Fíli's ear. He willed his brother to open his eyes, that it had all been a nightmare or a cruel joke. But he laid still and unmoving while Kíli trembled between despair and fury. One hand for support on the stone, his other grasped his brother's as he begged Mahal to hear him, wishing he could always be at his brother's side.

 _You told me I had a promise to keep but what of his, Mahal!? He was supposed to be beside me! Why would you save me for a life without him?_

He bowed his head as hot tears gathered and fell, devastation screaming inside him. Steeling himself once more he looked upon Fíli's face, forever frozen in his youth and never to see the throne that would have one day been his.

Squeezing his brother's hand tightly for the final time, he stood straight as he memorized Fíli's face.

"Sleep sound in stone, my brother. And forever dream of the mountain overhead."

Dwalin grasped Kíli's elbow tightly as he stepped away from his brother weakly. It was then he saw his mother standing beside Balin. She stood fiercely proud and seemed to be have a backbone of steel. He wondered at how the grief did not overwhelm her as it did him. He angrily wiped the tears off his face on his sleeve as the three turned to join the rest of their company and his mother. Grief was waging war with a deeper anger within him. Balin's voice echoed through the chamber, reverberating off the mountain walls.

"The King is dead. Long live the king!"

"Long live the king!"

Thousands of voices strong, the cheer rang in unison through the mountain as Kíli shuddered in silence.

It was a calculated risk that all dwarves in the mountain but those tasked to guard the gate would be attending the ceremony in the burial chamber. I passed as silent as shadow inside the secret passage that would lead me to an outcropping on the side of the mountain.

Nori had slipped me a small piece of parchment outlining how I might find my way there. From all accounts, the feast would last much of the evening into night and it would afford me a short time outdoors that I desperately needed.

I had felt an intense pull towards the burial chamber as I stole through the empty halls of the mountain, shortly before the dwarves rallied. It took all my will to not turn and run towards the despair and rage I felt even from so far. It was as though a tether was being stretched to the point of tearing. My heart ached in my chest and felt ripped within me as I forced myself to quicken my pace, desperate for air.

It was as the cheer rang out that I found the passageway outside, careful to ensure the door did not close solidly behind me. Halfway down the short but wide tunnel I could smell the crisp air flowing off the mountain and over the river running from its peak. My eyes adjusted to the brightness of the setting sun as I took in the sight of the forest in the distance.

It looked so small and remote, so far and inconsequential even to my elven eyes. Smaller than ever it would be in my memory.

The ache that had tightened my heart did not lessen as I had hoped. It simply squeezed until I fought for breath and leaned against the cool rock face. I remembered. I remembered this feeling of hopelessness so well that it felt as if it might envelop me again.

I could see Ravenhill from this vantage point and was flooded with more of what had transpired. It was as though pieces of a half remembered dream were sliding into place. The emotion that had swamped me that day had been first to return when I laid eyes on Kíli, and the rest had followed steadily over the past week.

 _The dwarves will be slaughtered._

And wasn't that what had happened? The scar upon Kíli's chest would forever be a reminder of the blow that should have taken the last son of Durin from me. The scars of my own were deeper than flesh could reveal. I had yet to feel whole again since that fateful day at Ravenhill.

Though so much of my memory had been gradually returning when I took the time to rest, there was still a greater piece missing. Being close to Kíli was the only thing that banked that feeling of incompleteness. But I could sense the lack of something I could not name, which held a lingering dread over me that darkness would fall and I would fade into shadow.

A horn sounded from the mountain and was answered by a return call from Dale. I presumed this was in honor of Thorin and hoped that Kíli would retain enough fortitude for the day.

I knew as time saw the sun fall in the west that my time was short to remain unnoticed, so I turned back to the tunnel that would lead me to an unknown future. I listened carefully at the door I had left slightly ajar, near holding my breath as I stepped back inside the mountain. Either more time had passed than I accounted for, or the dwarves were quick to begin their revelry.

Music and cheering echoed through the chambers from the great feasting hall. For all the apparent mirth, I could feel the underpinning of sorrow over those that had been lost. Most prominent was the feeling I now recognized from Kíli. I hesitated to return and wait, turning for a moment towards the din and hoping that he might not partake in the festivities if his heart was not in it. Perhaps there was a way for me to check on him without anyone seeing me.

But that mere moment of hesitation cost me, as a pair of guards just relieved from duty were en route to the feast themselves. I raised my hands slowly in surrender though instinct had me contemplating the blades on my hip when I saw them heft their axes and rush towards me shouting in Khuz-dul. I only hoped the new king would live up to Dwalin's opinion.

 _"Inkhith id-utrâd!"_

* * *

Khuzdul Translation:

"Inkhith id-utrâd!" (Summon the guard!)


End file.
